A Broken Promise
by Faye Dartmouth
Summary: By this point in Cal's life, he really should have learned that sometimes it just didn't pay to wake up. There was always something bad waiting for him. Too bad he never remembered that until after he woke up.
1. Chapter 1

Title: A Broken Promise

Summary: By this point in Cal's life, he really should have learned that sometimes it just didn't pay to wake up. There was always something bad waiting for him. Too bad he never remembered that until _after_ he woke up.

A/N: More Cal fic!! He's just too much fun to write. This one focuses on Cal and Promise actually and there the Niko/Promise relationship has some place in this fic. Much thanks to sendintheclowns and geminigrl11 for the betas. I had a blast with this fic--and it will be posted in three parts :)

Disclaimer: I totally do not own these--Cal and company belong to Rob Thurman.

-o-

**PART ONE**

If Cal had his pick of super powers, he was pretty sure that being able to open a portal to anywhere wouldn't be his first choice. For one thing, it was draining. He was getting better at it and it had come in handy from time to time, but spending the time recovering from it was hardly a piece of cake. Not to mention that it made him a beacon to those who wanted to kill him.

Rather, wanted to kill everyone he loved before dragging him back down to hell.

No, that power wasn't really all that it was cracked up to be, especially since it didn't help prevent anything. It didn't tell him when danger was coming, it didn't keep bad things at bay. It was more like a last minute escape plan that he only had enough energy to muster under extreme emotional duress.

He'd take George's ESP any day of the week.

If he'd had it, he never would have gotten out of bed this morning.

Well, truthfully, he wouldn't have gotten out of bed if it weren't for Promise.

Somehow, by being Niko's younger brother, Promise had practically adopted him—which also meant recruiting him at will for any foray she deemed necessary. Unfortunately for Cal, Niko's return to school had made him more indisposed than usual, and Promise didn't like to disrupt Niko from his studies.

Apparently she didn't feel that Cal's sleeping habits mattered quite as much. She could always coerce him under the guise of the business, which Cal thought was pretty low. The business meant a lot to Niko, meant their only source of income, and Cal wanted to pull his weight, to make his brother happy.

Not to mention the fact that if Niko _was_ serious about Promise, then Cal needed to be good to her anyway.

And Niko was serious about everything he did.

Which was how Cal ended up here, traipsing through Central Park on a weekday morning. There were joggers and moms with babies and little groups of school children being led around—none of them worth giving up a half-day's sleep for. He yawned absently, rubbing a trace of sleep from his eyes as he shuffled next to the vampire. "What are we doing here again?" he asked.

Promise looked at him appraisingly and pulled her hood farther over her face. "It is a business contact," she said. "He expressed interest in hiring us for a job."

"What kind of job?"

She gave a half shrug. "He mentioned a string of mysterious accidents at his workplace. He suspected it was something the police would not be able to solve."

"And you need me why?"

She led them under a bridge and stopped, unfolding the hood from her head. Even with the hood, she was a picture of grace and class. Without it, she was striking. Her long hair was always well kept, and for today was swept up into a simple ponytail. The ends of it fell hidden beneath her cloak, a simple black affair that dusted the outside of her silken skirt. "It is best to make an impression of force," she said. "Not all our clients are aware of my skills. They respond better to having a male presence during the negotiations. Don't worry," she told him with a sardonic smile. "I'll handle all the talking. You just stand there and...look adequate."

There was a bite to her last statement, and Cal scowled, looking down at himself. He was in his jeans, mostly because he didn't own much else. But they were a newer pair, devoid of holes and of blood, which was an impressive feat. His t-shirt was also hole-less and blood free, though he hadn't been sure if it were clean or dirty, and it had the wrinkles to prove that confusion. But he'd pulled his jacket over the entire ensemble, which gave him an air of professionalism, or at least more of one than the t-shirt alone.

It's not like he had asked to come along. Promise should really know better than to drag him into professional situations. As it was, beggars couldn't be choosers, and Cal wasn't about to feel self-conscious about something as insanely stupid as his clothes. Especially not for Promise. That was Niko's job.

Sighing, he leaned sulkily against side of the bridge. "It's awfully early in the day for a business meeting," he muttered.

"Not everyone sleeps more than they're awake," Promise said, a mocking smile quirking her lips good-naturedly.

Cal glowered (he had a dark image to maintain). "Sadist."

She feigned surprised. "That's a big word coming from you."

Cal was about to reply, something snide but not very witty, when he saw someone approaching. Someone...little.

Promise saw him too and smiled genially. "Mr. Ely," she said. "It's good to see you this morning."

The man was tiny. Literally. A midget.

Now Cal was used to out there things. He'd seen monsters of all kinds and never even batted an eyelash. So he wasn't sure why this was catching him so off guard.

Promise elbowed him discreetly, and he realized he was staring. Sheepishly, he looked away, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

As Mr. Ely approached, he fixed Cal with a piercing stare that had Cal cringing. The man looked pointedly at Promise. "Who's this?"

"One of my business partners," she said easily. "Mr. Ely, this is Cal Leandros."

Cal remembered to offer his hand, which the man shook without grace. "He looks dirty."

Cal opened his mouth to protest, but Promise beat him to it. "Cal's skills lay in other areas, Mr. Ely," she said easily.

Another elbow silenced Cal's complaint at such derogative language. Instead he clenched his teeth and tried not to glower more than normal.

Mr. Ely was still eyeing him, looking suspicious. "They'd better," he said finally. "Because I'm willing to pay good money for the services you offer."

Now that was more like it. The prospect of a good paycheck was even enough to keep Cal in line.

"Good," Promise said. "Perhaps you would like to discuss the terms of our agreement?"

The small man nodded, but Cal's eyes narrowed. Because the man stepped back, away from Promise, away from him. That wasn't how business deals were closed, that was how—

The flash of movement was too fast to really register and Cal was moving without thinking until everything went black.

-o-

By this point in Cal's life, he really should have learned that sometimes it just didn't pay to wake up. There was always something bad waiting for him. Whether it was Niko's incessant pestering, Robin's endless preening, or even the aftermath of some unbelievably traumatic event, usually he was better off asleep.

Too bad he never remembered that until _after_ he woke up. He might save himself from a headache from time to time.

But there was always something to bring him out, some morbid curiosity as to what he was missing.

This time, it was the sensation of being very, very uncomfortable.

Snuggling down in a warm bed was always pleasant. Doing so on a hard surface where sharp and uneven objects poked into his back was not so much. Which was why, in general, he opted to sleep on a bed (or a couch or a recliner—he wasn't _that_ picky). So why the hell was he on the floor?

Blinking away, he realized he wasn't just on any floor, but on a stone floor. A cold one, littered with dirt, sediment and rocks.

Trying to sit up, he groaned, pain in his head flaring up suddenly. He worked through it, pressing his hand to the back of his head where the pain radiated from.

"Caliban, how do you feel?"

He grunted, squinting his eyes closed before opening them again experimentally.

"Cal?"

He blinked again, realizing that not only was he lying on stone, but he was surrounded by stone walls as well. It was a cavern, chiseled out of hard, dark rock. It was big enough to move around in, but definitely small and confined enough to drive him crazy. There was no outside light source, but it wasn't pitch black, oddly enough. He shuddered.

"Cal?"

He finally turned to the voice, almost surprised to see Promise there. She looked completely out of place. Her carefully done hair was mussed and her clothing stained, and she was seated against the opposite wall, looking at Cal with detached concern.

Swallowing dryly, he managed to croak, "Yeah."

She looked marginally relieved. "You've been unconscious," she informed him. "I believe you may have a concussion."

He felt the back of his head again, wincing at the bump there and feeling a wave of nausea pass through him. "What the hell happened?" The sound of his own voice echoed in his skull, flaring with pain.

"We were betrayed," she said. "It was a set-up."

"A set-up? From the little guy?"

"Apparently his intentions were not pure," she said blandly. "Nor was he alone."

Cal squinted at her, trying to remember. If his eyes could just focus and his brain would stop throbbing, it would be much easier. He remembered the bridge, the midget, then—

"They tried to apprehend me, and you attempted to stop them."

Cal looked at her, leaned against the wall of their enclosed space. "I did one hell of a job, didn't I?"

"They took a gun to your head," she explained. "Blunt side, thankfully, or I'd never be able to explain it to Niko."

That explained the bump on the back of his head. But how had they gotten Promise? And he hoped there were more than two of them or his fighting skills were getting more than a little rusty.

"While I was attempting to assist you, they managed to inject me with something."

Well, that was one Cal hadn't expected. "Inject you?" Cal said, shocked. "Why the hell would they do that? And where the hell are we? And what the—"

His voice cut out with a sharp pain in his head that made him wilt back toward the ground, squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to escape it.

"I believe we may have acquired more enemies than we had previously thought," Promise was saying. "Considering the drug they were carrying, I think I may have been the intended target, but I cannot be sure. There are many things that don't make sense. Cal? Caliban?"

She sounded a little weird, a bit un-Promise-like, which really should be reason enough to sit up and look her in the eye, but Cal's body refused to respond. It was on mutiny, pure and simple, swirling and fading and dissipating into nothing.

-o-

He woke again to the sound of a feminine voice, this time with the addition of soft fingers against his face. "Cal? Can you hear me?"

He groaned, turning away as his stomach roiled.

"Easy. Just breathe for a moment."

Breathing—now why hadn't he thought of that? The novelty of that concept surprised him, and he forced his lungs to remember how to work.

They may have worked, but he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be so hard. And that things weren't supposed to hurt quite this bad. And, geez, it _reeked_.

The hands steadied him, pulling him up. "Can you open your eyes?"

He wanted to just say no and avoid the issue entirely.

"Caliban." She was scolding him now.

Giving in, he cracked his eyes, shrinking away from the face that seemed to hover above his. It took a moment—a long, awkward, nauseating moment—but his eyes focused and his stomach settled. "Promise?"

The relief on her face was palpable. "Do you know where you are?"

Wherever it was, it wasn't home, in bed, so he knew it wasn't any place he wanted to be. As the four stone walls came into focus, his memory tripped. "We were ambushed."

"Yes," she said with an encouraging but weary smile. "The wound to your head is serious. Your pupils are even, but you've been disoriented."

He struggled to sit up, sheepishly accepting her help.

"You've also vomited," she informed him and he wondered how she could say that like it was absolutely no big deal.

At least that explained the smell. "Sorry," he mumbled.

She didn't seem to need the apology. "Do you remember anything else?"

"Just...waking up here. Meeting the midget. Not much else." Except blinding, mind-numbing _pain_.

Seeming to be satisfied that he wouldn't keel over, she moved back, sitting again, though still close to him. "As I was saying earlier, they overpowered us, and I awoke here. The walls are thick, impenetrable by any means we have within here. Our possessions are gone. Clearly, this was not an accident."

That was stating the obvious—as if he slammed himself into someone's gun _by accident_. "But why?" he asked, trying to shuffle aside his sarcasm. It took too much brainpower to maintain anyway.

Something imperceptible fell in her face. She was not one to show weakness—ever—but Cal could tell she was out of her element. "I don't know."

He didn't like to hear that tone in her voice, that small sense of defeat, of hopelessness. He pushed himself up even more, hoping to gain his feet.

Her hands were on him immediately, gently restraining. "What do you think you're doing?"

He pushed against her, but the concussion was really putting a damper on his mobility and despite her small frame, Promise was stronger than she looked. "We need to get out of here," he explained.

"I just told you there was no way out, didn't I?"

He stilled at that, looking up at her. "Yeah, but—"

"But nothing," she said simply. "You've been unconscious longer than you think. Believe me when I say I have exhausted all possible means of escape."

At that, Cal deflated, letting himself slump back to the ground. "So what—we wait then?"

She hesitated and Cal knew why.

He resisted the urge to go back to sleep and avoid her next question.

"Can you open a portal?" she asked, her voice hesitant. She knew what it did to him, she'd seen what it did to him. She wouldn't have asked unless it was their only option.

Cal grimaced. It was a question he'd been trying to avoid. He may be able to open them, he may have used them in the past, but there was no doubt they made him feel vulnerable. Dirty. They were how the Auphe tracked him; worse, they were a sign of what he really was. No matter how long he'd lived with that, it never made it easier. "Maybe," he admitted.

"Will you try?" she asked simply, but damn convincingly.

Every aching fiber in his head screamed no, but Cal figured that really wasn't the best attitude to take when trapped underground with a vampire without her iron supply. Much less one who could thrash him with one hand tied behind her back. "Yeah," he grunted, trying to prop himself up. He glanced at her warily. "You might want to, uh...stand back."

She raised her eyebrows.

He shrugged. "Just in case." Just in case he couldn't control where it went. There was no need to send his brother's girlfriend to hell, no matter how much she liked to torment him.

She slid backwards.

Satisfied, Cal tried to focus. Opening rifts had come naturally at times, but controlling one—that was another issue entirely. He'd done it, and he was no doubt improving, though he never could vocalize why or how on either front. Clenching his teeth, he focused, keeping his mind set on the apartment.

Pain rippled through his head and he gasped, doubling over toward the ground.

The rift was there, open, but it flickered, it ebbed and flowed, which was all fine and good except for one minor detail.

He had no control.

His mind was screaming, aching with it. It was draining under the best of circumstances. He could only guess the concussion was screwing things up. Badly.

He swallowed, trying to stop it, to pull it back, anything before he made the entire city of New York crash face first into his apartment.

That was, if his brain didn't explode first.

He felt hands on him, a presence. "Cal? Cal, are you alright?"

Promise.

Sheesh, did he _look_ okay?

"You have to stop it," he ground out, as he recognized his own loss of control. "Stop me." He was practically begging.

He caught a glimpse of pain in her eyes, disappointment, and for a second Cal wondered if she was capable.

As he remembered her fighting in the Moonshine, he realized it was a stupid thought, a second before her hand fell hard across his jaw and everything went black. Again.

-o-

Waking up for the fourth time in one day was really_ not _his idea of a good time. If he was going to be knocked unconscious all the time, he would really rather just stay that way. This up and down, awake and out thing was getting old fast.

He felt Promise watching him before he really managed to open his eyes successfully. When the room had stopped spinning and his stomach was not at risk for expelling its meager contents, she asked, "You alright?"

There was that question again, and it was just about as ridiculous now as it had been every other time she'd asked it so far today.

He grimaced, propping himself up on his elbows to look at her. Her look was tender, apologetic, and he felt guilty for failing all over again. "I can't do it," he said flatly.

Her face showed no expression. "I know."

"It must be the concussion," he tried to explain, feeling even guiltier. The only good part of having that weird Auphe skill was to use it to save those around him. To know he had it but couldn't use it, well, it just added to the sense of failure he felt for not getting them out of this to begin with. "I can try again."

Her expression changed to one of compassion. "There is no point in exhausting yourself," she said. "Besides, I'm sure by now they realize we are missing."

No doubt, _they_, meaning Robin and Nik. And that much was true, a solace so real that they could both take comfort in it. He let himself breathe, evenly in and out, willing the world to settle along with his stomach. "Nik's going to be pissed," he said, laughing slightly. "I'm not supposed to let anything happen to you."

"I've received the same lecture," Promise commented, bemused. "Looks like we'll both be in for some extra training when he finally gets a hold of us."

Cal grunted. "You know," he said. "If we teamed together, we could take him. Tie him up and do things our way."

She merely raised her eyebrows. "Somehow I doubt that."

Cal exhaled loudly, trying to shift on the rock-laden ground. "Yeah," he said. "I think you're right about that."

-o-

Cal was bored.

He'd tried to open the portal again, but had received the same violent headache and had retched again before Promise could put him under. The blissful unconsciousness had earned him an hour or so of oblivion, but now awake and as alert as he figured he would be, he was itching for something to do.

Not that anyone ever said being held prisoner in some nondescript underground cavern would be a lot of fun, but the _least _the guy could have done was left him with something to do.

But he had nothing.

No weapons, no cell phone, no wallet. Nothing.

Except his brother's girlfriend.

Promise, for her part, was sitting quietly across from him, her legs crossed in front of her, resting calmly and easily against the wall. Her gaze was mostly neutral, but Cal could detect some frustration coming through.

Not that he could blame her. Getting trapped wasn't probably her idea of a good time either, especially not with him. There was nothing to do, nothing to see, and that left conversation. Cal was not a conversationalist by any stretch of the imagination, but talking sure seemed more appealing than drowning in the monotony of nothingness.

He turned his eyes back to Promise, smiling in what he hope was a congenial way. "So," he said. "How are you?"

If there'd been any doubts on his people skills, that ice-breaker about summed it up.

She looked at him, slightly bemused. "I'm trapped in a cavern with no means of escape," she replied. "There's nothing to do, and no privacy."

Cal contained a wince—that one had hurt. He knew he wasn't much company, but he was hoping he wasn't _that_ bad.

Her face softened, and she smiled conciliatorily. "I am a private creature," she explained. "I've seen many ages of men but kept my distance from them all. Mine has always been a solitary path."

His hurt vanished, replaced quickly by empathy. He knew that feeling, that desire to hold himself aloof. It was the one he'd fought with every day of his life, the one that told him he was too monstrous to be around others, the one that made him push everyone but Niko away.

At least before. He still wasn't ready to commit to people, not like George may have wanted, but he was learning to trust for the first time in his life. Robin and Promise—they were people he would stand beside, people he'd fight for, people who'd fought for him. It was hard to accept, harder still to understand, but it was changing him.

He knew it was changing her, as well.

She'd been around for centuries, had even been married before, but those things didn't necessarily equate with trust. Not like what she had with Niko. Not like what she had with _them_.

But old habits died hard.

"It gets lonely though," Cal said, letting his eyes roam the ceiling of the prison.

She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. A moment of silent understanding passed between them.

Cal wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep himself steady to avoid jarring his sensitive head. A familiar sensation rippled through his abdomen. He scrunched his nose. That wasn't a development he'd thought of.

"Something wrong?" Promise asked.

Cal offered her an innocent smile. "Let's just hope Nik gets here before I have to go to the bathroom," he said.

She just stared at him.

"What? I had a doughnut and coffee. Those things are rough on the digestive tract."

She just closed her eyes and seemed to pretend that Cal wasn't even there. Which was okay by him. He closed his and pretended he wasn't, either.

-o-

For all of Caliban's talk, he actually could be quite a gentleman, which was Niko's influence no doubt. His conversation was forced but strangely sweet, and he'd kept an easy distance from her, closing his eyes whether he was sleeping or not to allow her the privacy he seemed to sense she wanted.

The poor boy had even made it an entire twelve hours before guiltily relieving himself in the corner, an immodesty Promise could not degrade herself to quite yet.

He was obviously uncomfortable, offering her apologetic smiles more often than not, as if to apologize for being in there with her. This was somewhat amusing to her. Despite all of Cal's outward roughness (and there was a _lot _of that), he had a certain sensitivity that she'd never really seen before.

She appreciated this sensitivity in their capture together. The space he provided her helped her relax, helped her hide the fact that this was wearing on her far more than it was him. He seemed to think she was impenetrable. She was not yet ready to tell him of her only weakness.

She sighed. Niko often wanted her to spend time with Cal, for her to get to know him on a different level. She had gone along with Niko's request, often recruiting Cal for business meetings and discussions that allowed them more one-on-one time, and she'd managed to ease herself into a comfortable relationship with the younger Leandros brother.

However, there was still tension. Seeing Cal as a monster was not something she was inclined to do, not since her relationship with Niko so colored her outlook on the boy. Niko believed inherently in his younger brother, fighting for him doggedly, even at the expense of himself. It was hard not to come to respect the boy in those circumstances.

But it was also hard not to resent him as well.

So much of Niko's life was based on him, and therefore any part of her life with Niko was as well. And to see the boy continually thrusting Niko into dangerous situations, into stressful situations—she simply did not enjoy seeing the man she loved in that manner.

Ever since her words to Cal in the RV, there had been a certain hesitancy between them. She had apologized, and he accepted, and they'd fought side by side since then. But Cal had closed something of himself off, some personal wall, as if to protect himself from her emotional attacks.

She figured time would solve that problem, time and proximity. They couldn't get much _closer_ than being trapped in a small room together. It made sense to capitalize.

Besides, it would take her attention off the other pressing problems that were itching the back of her mind.

Namely, her need for iron.

Cal hadn't figured it out yet, and she was pinning her hopes on rescue before it became an issue. There was a reason she never left without her purse and her stockpile of pills. She never wanted to be caught unawares. Without her iron, her urges were...powerful.

Luckily, the boy had other things on his mind. Mostly sleep, his concussion, and his own rumbling stomach.

He was seated now, which was a good sign, she figured. She'd been worried about the intensity of his head wound, and yet had had few means to deal with it except to watch him carefully.

"When we get out of here," he said suddenly, "I'm going to eat an entire pizza."

"So your nausea has receded then?"

He swallowed, his forehead scrunching up. "Well, mostly," he said. "When I'm not moving, anyway."

She let the obvious quip pass unsaid between them.

"Maybe Nik will even spring for a real dinner, not one of his health food, new age places. I'd probably devour a steak faster than a werewolf. What I wouldn't give for a five course meal." His voice trailed off and a dreamy expression crossed his face.

She clenched her teeth, hard, feeling her fangs resting against the inside of her lips. What she wouldn't give for her pills. Her pills or a nice, warm vial of blood.

-o-

It was funny how he could be so hungry for so long that he didn't even really feel it anymore. His hunger had gone from uncomfortable, to panging, to the hollow numbness which he now felt.

Worse than that, he was dry as a bone. His throat tickled with it and he was sure the ache in his head wasn't helped by it either. Even blinking felt uncomfortable.

He'd resigned himself to sitting. Sitting and thinking. Well, maybe sitting and brooding. He wasn't really known for his intelligent thought, but his brooding was pretty standard.

Promise was unusually quiet. Not that she was the overly chatty type, but with all they'd been through together, with all that Niko had meant to both of them, they certainly got along. Promise had been annoyed with him on occasion—sometimes in a little brother kind of way that Cal seemed to grate on everyone's nerves. Other times out of her defense of Niko, and Cal couldn't help but be grateful to her for that much. His brother deserved someone like her.

And it wasn't like he'd done anything recently to get on her nerves, but maybe spending two days trapped with him underground was making her edgy. He didn't smell the best under prime conditions, and with her vamped up sense of smell, the Auphe part of him probably reeked to high heaven.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

She tensed but didn't answer, keeping her gaze down.

Cal sniffed himself experimentally. "I'm sure Niko's working on a way out," he assured her. "You won't be stuck with me for much longer."

She made a sound, almost a grunt, if anything as refined as Promise could grunt.

He swallowed, feeling his stomach grumble hungrily. He hadn't eaten since he'd gotten stuck here, and the water supply was nonexistent. What he wouldn't give for a chili cheese dog right about now...

_Crap_. No wonder Promise was acting weird. "You need blood, don't you?"

She licked her lips, turning her eyes upon him. In them, he saw a hunger he'd never seen before. A desperate, yearning hunger.

Cal swallowed. Hard. "What can we do?"

She grimaced, looking down again. "What _can _we do?"

Cal looked around, desperately, though he knew it was a lost cause. They had no supplies and there was nothing but dirt and rock around them. Nothing to satisfy his own hunger and nothing to satiate hers.

The back of his head throbbed, and he could feel the stickiness in his hair.

Well, not quite nothing.

No wonder she didn't want to sit near him. It was like sitting next to an all-you-can-eat buffet and not being able to touch.

"How much longer can you go?"

"Most vampires need some kind of daily sustenance," she ground out. "Blood often works best. I must take the iron several times a day in order to make it be sufficient."

Damn. That certainly wasn't good news. Especially since they'd probably been there a day already.

"Niko will be here soon," Cal said, hoping it sounded encouraging, not desperate.

Her grim smile suggested she didn't totally believe him.

He swallowed hard against the pounding of his heart. "How much blood do you need?"

She glanced up at him, haltingly, suspiciously. "A liter," she said. "It's not truly enough, but it will keep me going for a day."

A liter didn't sound so bad. He didn't know a lot about the body, but he knew some blood was expendable, that the body could survive without some and regenerate it. Surely he could sacrifice a little, especially since it didn't look like she'd make it much longer.

The idea of it though—being _drunk_ like some sort of human beverage dispenser—it made him queasy (well, that could just be the concussion). But this was Promise. This was Niko's girl. Moreover, she needed help. And he could give it.

"So just a liter, huh?"

She shook her head vehemently. "No, Cal," she said. "I can't."

"It would only be enough to tide you over—"

"I haven't in so long," she said, her voice cracking. "I _promised_ myself."

"It's not the same," Cal countered. He forced a grin on his face. "Besides, it's not like you'd be draining me or anything. I can spare a little. I did promise Nik I'd look out for you."

"And I promised him I would look out for you," she replied. "Drinking your blood would not exactly be fulfilling that obligation."

Cal rolled his eyes. "It's not the same thing," he said. "You have my permission. I want you to. I don't want you to suffer."

That much was true without a doubt. It was hard to watch her, knowing her as he did. She was the epitome of grace and elegance, so calm and collected—the perfect match for his stoic and reserved brother.

She closed her eyes, seemed to contain a shudder. "We'll wait," she said. "Niko will come. Niko has to come."

"Of course he will," Cal said, hoping for both their sakes it was true.

-o-

Time had never really been on Cal's side, and time never seemed to move like he wanted it to. So the hours seemed painfully long and lonely, just him and Promise. No word from their kidnappers. No sign of rescue. If Nik was coming, he was just a bit slower than either of them hoped. Apparently, the cavalry didn't always have perfect timing.

To her credit, Promise lasted quite awhile. At least it seemed that way. Cal really didn't know how long it'd been—they'd taken his cell phone and his watch after bashing his head in.

"Cal," she said, her voice straining.

Cal's stomach turned, hating the entire situation. The idea of getting the blood sucked out of him wasn't high on his list of things to do today, but looking at Promise, he had no choice. Her normally regal exterior was cowering and desperate. He wouldn't deny her. He couldn't.

Scooting closer tentatively, he kept his voice soft. "How do you want to do this?"

She looked up, greedily. "Your wrist," she said. "Give me your wrist."

Cal shrugged out of his jacket, turning his wrist over and offering it to her.

She only hesitated for a moment before her slender hands took his arm and pulled it close. "I'll only take a little," she said, her voice wispy. "Just enough to tide me over."

Cal just nodded, though he was pretty sure that any blood drained from him was too much, just in principle.

Her lips were dry and soft as they brushed his wrist and he flinched but she held him firmly. Her lips bared, Cal caught a glimpse of her teeth gleaming and white as they descended right into his skin.

At first it was nothing more than a needle prick, sharp and sudden, and he gasped.

It was hard to look at her, hunched over his wrist, sucking so eagerly, like an animal. This wasn't Promise. This wasn't the refined, amazing woman that his brother loved. It just _wasn't_.

His stomach flipped. He wasn't sure if it was the concussion, the blood loss, or just the sight before him, but he had to turn his head and look away, wishing he could drown out the suckling noises that filled the cavern.

-o-

Things were awkward.

Okay, more than awkward. Awkward was about the understatement of the year. Maybe the century, where Promise was concerned.

What was he supposed to say? Gee, how's the weather? How you feeling? What about those Yankees this year? Oh, and my wrist is feeling just fine after you _sucked the blood out of it_.

Cal had seen some weird crap in his day. He'd _done _weird crap in his day, stuff that would have most good and normal people spinning out of their sweet, little naive brains. The very fact that he was half demonic probably had something to do with it, not to mention his whole stint in hell and his attempt to end the world.

So really, Cal just shouldn't be surprised anymore. Maybe it was the lightheadedness, maybe it was the lack of fresh air, but it was really hard to take having his brother's girlfriend _drink his blood_.

He'd known she was a vamp, sure, and over time he'd gotten to know a little about modern vamp habits. But seeing her sucking at his arm, slurping his _blood_, really put her refined, elegant image in question.

Glancing at her, she was sullen against the wall, nearly gray in the dim light. She had retreated there after relinquishing his arm. They hadn't said a word since and she hadn't even looked at him. She seemed to be taking this about as well as he was.

"You okay?" he asked, knowing exactly how ridiculous the question was. Of _course_ she wasn't okay. She had just given into a primal urge she'd long since buried, and he couldn't imagine she was feeling to keen on her relationship with Niko at this point. It was one thing to not get along with the in-laws. It was another entirely to slurp the plasma from under their skin.

She looked at him, her eyes grim and exhausted. "I'm feeling much better, thank you." Her voice was soft and colorless and as carefully crafted as ever. She knew how to keep her composure, there was no doubt about it.

But Cal knew. Cal could see what she wasn't saying, what she wouldn't let herself say.

He sighed.

"It's not your fault, you know," he said.

She didn't even flinch. She also didn't look up.

"Promise, I'm serious," he said. "You can't change what you are."

"Which is what? A monster?" Her eyes flashed up at him with a sudden vigor that surprised him.

He smiled slightly, tentatively. "Well, if you're a monster, then I must already be condemned, because I know you, Promise. And you've got nothing on me in the monster department."

There was doubt in her eyes when she looked away again. "You're not a monster, Caliban."

"You've been hanging around Niko too long," he said lightly.

"Your DNA doesn't make you a monster. It's what you do."

"I seem to have pretty vivid memories of trying to destroy the world," Cal pointed out.

Promise shook her head. "You couldn't control that."

"I know," he said. "And you couldn't control this. So don't worry so much about it."

She held his gaze a moment longer, questioningly and maybe hopeful before she smiled and leaned her head back. "And Niko says you have no inclination to philosophy."

Cal snorted at that. "He said that?" What was his beloved big brother doing talking about _him_ when he was dating a woman as beautiful as Promise? They'd need to have a talk about Niko's priorities when he got out of here.

"Every day," she confirmed. "Drives him crazy."

"It's not my fault he's an introspective freak," Cal said.

"Nor is it yours that you're an uncouth barbarian most of the time."

Cal grinned. "Careful, Promise, or I'm going to think you're hitting on me."

She rolled her eyes. "Only you would consider that a pick up line, Caliban."

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You know you're wondering if you picked the wrong brother."

She seemed to consider this. "Well, it depends," she said. "Can you do the things Niko does with his legs?"

That was an image he simply did not want. He groaned, holding his head. "Come on," he said. "That's just not fair."

She shrugged innocently. "You started it."

He grunted, closing his eyes. "And I'm going to end it too." The pull of sleep was nearly immediate, nearly paralyzing. "Wake me when Niko's here."

-o-

Niko wasn't there when he woke up. Promise was though, seated on the opposite side of the room, sleeping sitting up, her body turned protectively away from him.

It was weird to see her sleeping.

He knew she surely did sleep, as most beings did, but as he watched her with closed eyes against the wall of the cavern, he realized he'd never seen her sleep before. Any time he might have seen her sleeping, he'd probably been asleep himself. Why he wasn't sleeping now—that was a matter of sheer restlessness. His legs were threatening to cramp, so stretching them by walking the small confines of the room was his only recourse.

They'd been quiet, letting the hours slip silently between them, and he'd been so lost in his own ruminations that he'd never even seen her nod off.

Vamps probably didn't need as much, but he couldn't help but feel that she was nearly above sleep somehow. A creature like her had more important things to do.

Unless you were stuck in a freakin' underground cavern.

That thought annoyed Cal and he kicked the wall just out of principle.

"That won't do any good," Promise said, and Cal jumped.

"Sorry," he said. "Didn't mean to wake you."

She straightened, not even acknowledging his apology. "You _know _the walls are thick and pure rock. Any way out will only come from outside."

That was hardly comforting, but Cal forced a smile anyway. "Good thing Nik's out there then," he said, pushing himself to a standing position, wavering slightly on his jellied legs. "Because I'm about to go stir crazy in here."

"Niko is quite persistent," she agreed and he could feel her watching him, maybe waiting for him to pass out. This was the most he'd been upright in _hours_.

Cal snorted, pacing the small length of the room, keeping a hand on trailing along the wall to steady himself. Toppling over would do nothing for his bad boy image. "That's one way of putting it."

She didn't reply, but he could feel her eyes tracking him as he walked back and forth.

He kicked the wall again, unable to help the feeling of claustrophobia that was settling over him. "I am just _so _ready to get out."

"Perhaps if you tried relaxing," she suggested. "Some sort of meditation."

Cal laughed loudly, maybe a tad hysterically. "That is exactly what Nik would do if he were here. He'd sit there, right in the middle of the floor and cross his legs and do that yoga thing he does."

"Your brother is a smart man," she said.

Cal's smile fell at that and he sunk back to his seat on the ground, feeling his body wilting again. "I'm just so _tired_," he snapped, feeling his self-control ebbing. "I want to get out of here."

Cal moved to stand again, which turned out to be a bad idea. The cavern spun and his stomach turned and he found himself nearly gagging.

When his head cleared, Promise was next to him, gently restraining him. "Cal? Are you alright?"

Breathing thickly, he winced but nodded. "I think so. Just a little vertigo, I think."

"You head wound perhaps," she said.

Cal resisted the urge to snipe sarcastically. No reason to take his bad day out on her. It wasn't like she was having a better one. Keeping his breathing steady, he willed his stomach to settle. "Yeah," he said. "Maybe."

"You should stay still," she advised. "Don't aggravate your wounds."

Now that didn't make him feel completely pathetic and emasculated. It would help if he actually thought he _could _still move and was conscripted by weakness to comply with her suggestion.

"You know, you might be a good nurse," he said, opting for humor instead. "Except for that whole attraction to blood thing."

"Yes, and you'd be a good patient if not for your dazzling personality."

Cal feigned hurt. "Come on, Promise, that's low."

A small half-smile quirked her lips. "Are you saying that you're not man enough?"

"Oh, I'm man enough," Cal scoffed. "I can do anything Niko can and then some."

Easing herself back against the wall, she just smiled. "Somehow, I doubt that," she said, more than a little suggestively.

Cal groaned, throwing his arm over his face. "I really do _not_ want to know."

-o-

Cal slept more as time wore on. Promise had watched him carefully, discreetly, so he wouldn't notice. The head injury had made him sluggish, not that it had made a huge difference on his wit, but it was the lack of food and water that was making him exhausted.

She was pretty sure the blood loss wasn't helping too much.

She'd been careful though, very careful and measured. She'd only taken from Cal what she needed to stay functional. She'd only taken what he could easily regenerate. It kept her sane, but it did nothing to quell her urges.

Hunger panged within her.

It had been nearly a day since she had last fed. Hours since she'd exhausted Cal's left wrist. Hours, and she wanted more.

She needed more.

She stared at Cal hard, watching the slow rise and fall of his chest in the dimness. He was on his back, his head turned away from her. That boy certainly did enjoy his sleep. She'd always known that; Niko complained of it often, but seeing his sleep in action was something entirely new.

On the back of his neck, she could see the dried blood, and she wanted more.

She needed more.

It was an endless, vicious circle.

She closed here eyes and turned her head. Perhaps she could learn something from Cal and try to sleep the time away. Perhaps it wasn't as much laziness as a chance to escape from the interminable wait for rescue.

Trying to relax, she tried to believe that. She was waiting for Niko to rescue them, waiting for him to dig through those walls, strong and determined, to find them.

As she drifted off, it was hard to believe. Hard to believe that she was waiting for anything but death.

-o-

Promise looked terrible. Starving and almost crazed, the look of the homeless hobos who roamed the streets scuffling through trash bins. Desperation.

Niko would _not_ be happy if his girlfriend died, especially on Cal's watch. Especially when Cal could stop it.

And Cal may have not been the most altruistic guy around, but he'd do anything for Niko.

Anything.

He scooted over, holding his wrist out. "Here," he said. "You need more."

She looked at him, scared almost, glancing from his face to his wrist.

"You need to get your strength back."

"I will not hurt you."

Cal rolled his eyes. "Come on. I've survived worse than this."

She paused, considering. There was no way denying that one. "That wrist is no longer suitable," she said. "The pressure of drinking shrinks the veins."

Well, that was pleasant. Cal restrained a grimace and held out his other one. "Something fresh then," he quipped.

The look she gave him was one of desperation and grief. She didn't want to do this. Every moral fiber in her being was resisting this.

But every instinct inside of her was screaming for blood.

The battle was epic and Cal almost felt guilty for weighing in on it so heavily. He didn't want to shatter her resolve, but he didn't want her to die. She could always recover from a lapse in her moral lines. She would not recover from a lack of nutrition.

"It doesn't mean anything," he said. "It's just survival."

She closed her eyes, swallowing painfully. "I'm so hungry, Caliban."

"I know," he said softly, holding his wrist out. "It means nothing to do this."

Eyes open and tired, her mouth opened in longing. She licked her lips. "I'm sorry," she said softly, nearly sobbing. "I'm sorry."

"Shh," he said, scooting himself until he was next to her, his wrist in her lap.

Her eyes rolled up in to her head and her hands went unconsciously to Cal's wrist, her fingers lightly stroking it. Then her head dropped forward, her hair falling about her shoulders. "I'm sorry," she murmured before she sunk her teeth in and it took every ounce of strength Cal had not to squirm away.

His blood raced within him, pouring out of him, almost pulled out of him, throbbing in tandem with the powerful aura of the vampire that held him.

He choked on a cry as he realized she could kill him if she wished, she could bleed him dry and he wouldn't be able to do anything about it at all. It was a terrifying sensation of powerlessness, of defeat, that ebbed deeply within him. He turned his head away, submitting to her power, to her need, and clinging to the hope that she really was not a monster.

He drifted, his panic lessening as his strength fled him entirely.

As suddenly as it began, he was released, his wrist dropped limply on her lap and he was shoved away violently. He let himself fall to the side, feeling the rock against his cheek as his chest heaved for air, for life.

Distantly he heard her sobbing, and he knew he should go to her, comfort her. But he couldn't move, couldn't do anything except let oblivion take him once again.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: As there is much unknown about Promise's character, I took some liberties with her and about vampires in this fic, mostly making the assumption that they live quite awhile. I just wanted to warn for that in case I missed something in the books. This fic is still possible thanks to sendintheclowns, who humors me greatly, and geminigrl11. Also thanks to Brenna for her hard work--everyone should really check out It's small but should be growing and it's all about Cal :) All other notes and disclaimers in part one.

-o-

**PART TWO**

When he awoke, he was being cradled, being held, which was not something he was used to. Looking up, he managed to focus on Promise's face, tear-streaked and worn.

He tried to move, to sit up, but all it did was alert her that he was awake.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean—I tried—"

He pushed again, this time breaking her meager hold. Sitting up was a chore, one that made him dizzy and wish he really hadn't, but he needed to do this. "Promise," he breathed. "Just stop, okay?"

"I tried," she said again, shaking her head. "I was just going to take what I needed, just a little."

She wasn't making sense, or he was more out of it than he thought. "I'm okay," he said.

"I almost—Cal, I could have—"

"But you didn't," he said simply, strongly. "You didn't. I'm okay and so are you."

She took a ragged breath, her tears stilling. "Your blood, Cal," she said, almost in shock. "Your blood is unlike anything I've ever tasted before."

He'd been ready to hear a lot of things, ready to play the comforter no matter what, but that one threw him. His throat tightened. "What...do you mean?" he asked, even though he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Your blood...it is so strong, so...addictive." Her eyes were wide, staring into nothingness. "I couldn't stop."

He gulped, a bit nervously. Offering his blood to her had seemed a little easier when she seemed to be the same self-possessed woman he knew and Niko loved. This—this scared him a bit. Because he trusted her—he _trusted _her, which was not something he could say about very many people. She had proven herself to him, and that was no easy feat. Yet in here, in this _prison_, he was seeing something new in her. Something primal, something dangerous, something uncontrollable.

He was seeing her weakness.

She had seemed so strong, so impervious. Nothing ever ruffled her, and here she was, falling apart in front of him.

Any fear he had was replaced by compassion. "But you did stop," he said. "You stopped, Promise."

"I took—I took too much," she said, her voice wavering.

"It doesn't matter," Cal told her. "You didn't let it get the better of you."

She looked at him, scared, confused, hopeful. "How can you be so understanding?"

Cal's mouth twitched with an awkward smile. "I remember a time when I couldn't stop," he said. "When I hurt the people I loved and didn't do anything but enjoy it. The power to stop—that means more than you know."

A smile crossed her trembling features. "It's okay now," she said, almost childlike. "It's going to be okay."

Sinking back against the wall, he tried to return her smile. "Of course it is," he said, hoping it was true. "Of course it is."

-o-

Sleeping had always been his fallback when things got rough, so it was kind of a no-brainer on how to pass the time. Promise certainly didn't seem all that conversational, and with the throb in his head, the aching in his muscles, and the pain from the bites, sleep just seemed to make sense.

When he awoke, he found Promise awake, though somewhat vacant. Though she was rich, he had never known her to be truly snobby. She knew how to get down and dirty when the situation called for it. So he could only figure that her discomfort was not their accommodations, but the living conditions.

The lack of food and water wore anyone a little thin.

But Cal needed to do _something_, even though he barely had the energy to stand. He enjoyed being lazy and lounging around as much as the next guy, but without anything to veg out in front of, even his attention span was a little spent.

Besides, Promise looks like she could use some cheering. Though there was no one upbeat and cheery around, Cal would do what he could.

But what to talk about…

Cal mentally rushed through the list of things they had in common. There was Niko…not being human…being trapped together…Niko…

"So, how are you and Niko?" he finally asked, forgoing any more thought. It wasn't going to do him any good anyway.

She looked toward him blandly. "What do you mean?"

Cal didn't have any idea what he meant. "I just mean…you two together. What do you do?"

She laughed a little, a bit shocked. Apparently, Cal wasn't exactly eloquent. "We often spend time in conversation. We enjoy discussing numerous topics."

"Does he ever take you to the movies or something?" Cal asked, trying to think what couples did together.

"I'm sure if I wanted to go to the movies, he would take me."

Cal searched for something else to move the conversation along. She didn't seem willing to volunteer information. She was perhaps more of a kiss-and-_don't_-tell type. "What do you talk about?"

"Many things," she said. "Our pasts, our philosophies."

That surprised Cal for some reason, though he was sure it was natural. But Niko's past was Cal's past, and it wasn't easy for him to accept someone else being familiar with where he'd come from.

An affectionate smile crossed her face. "He said you were adorable," she said. "Always energetic. He always thought you'd run in front of a car and get yourself killed long before the Auphe found you."

Cal's eyes narrowed petulantly. "I'm not sure Niko's accounts are always accurate."

"And yours would be?" she asked with pointed humor.

He grinned lopsidedly. "You have me there."

She sighed. "The way Niko tells it, there were as many good times as bad."

That sounded like Nik. He would see the positive things, cling to the good moments and try to forget the rest. "Has Niko told you about our mother?"

She shrugged a little. "Pieces here and there. He says she was not exactly maternal."

Cal snorted. "Or kind or compassionate or _moral_."

"It is a relief that you two had each other," she commented softly, with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

At that, Cal had to smile slightly, remembering all the days and nights he'd spent with Niko. All the moments Niko had been there, to assure him, to comfort him, to make him smile. "He's always been like he is now, you know," Cal said. "For as long as I can remember."

"He says you gave him little choice," she responded. "You always were prone to getting yourself into trouble."

Cal attempted to laugh, but coughed instead, an action that turned into a long and painful incident. He tapered off, pulling into himself with a wince. "You know me," he quipped. "Trouble follows me."

"Well anything supernatural can smell you a mile away," she pointed out, which was always an ego booster.

"Not just that," Cal said. "Even regular things. Falling out of trees, stepping on glass, getting beaten up—"

"No wonder we got captured then," she interjected lightly. "You _are _a walking natural disaster."

"Nik learned early on that sticking with me was easier than following my trail of blood later," he said.

She smiled. "He was the ideal big brother then."

"Still is," Cal said without thinking. "He was the perfect everything, not that Sophia ever noticed it. I don't think she had any idea just how special he was. She was too worried telling me how _special_ I was." Special as in an abomination. Cal didn't doubt that Sophia probably would have prostituted him or killed him if Niko hadn't kept him so often from her attention. He looked at his hands. "Niko deserved more."

"Most children in that situation would not have prevailed," Promise said simply. "Most don't even have the motivation to move beyond it. All he can talk about in his childhood is you. Without you, it's hard to say if Niko would have gotten any attention or motivation whatsoever. There's a reason he loves you so blindly."

These weren't revelations; Cal had thought these things before. But hearing them from someone else, hearing them from Promise—it touched him.

Which made him as uncomfortable as hell. He forced a laugh. "Yeah, well, once Niko latches onto something—watch out. He never lets go. You can kiss your freedom goodbye."

She smirked at that. "Niko and I have come to a satisfactory arrangement for both of us," she assured him. "Though I must say, he _does_ latch on _very_ hard."

Cal just groaned. "Are we_ ever _going to get out of here?"

"Soon enough," she assured him lightly. "You can count on it."

Cal just shook his head. "Not soon enough."

-o-

The rocks _sparkled_.

That was Cal's latest revelation.

He had to look closely, squint just right, but sure enough, in that freakish light from nowhere that kept away the pitch-blackness, there was something sparkly in the walls.

Niko would probably tell him about the chemical makeup of the rock. He'd probably sniff it and do some utterly smart reasoning and tell Cal that it had been formed from years and years of intense pressure and then Nik would probably chisel a piece away and show him some amazingly intact fossil of a seahorse.

A freakin' _seahorse_.

Of course if Niko had a chisel, then he would probably be focusing on chiseling their way the hell out of here not looking at fossilized seahorses, no matter how amazing and rare they were.

Sighing, he closed his eyes. He wished Niko were here, fossilized seahorses or not. Because not even sparkly rock made this place seem worthwhile.

And he was getting so _tired_. It was as if his soul were being drained out of him, drop by painful drop. Just _thinking_ about moving made him hurt. The dryness in his mouth seemed to make his tongue feel large and his skin tight. He could almost feel his internal organs shriveling up inside of him.

The thought turned his partially shriveled stomach, and he felt himself gagging. Eyes burning, he controlled the gag, swallowing it back down with effort.

"How are you feeling?"

Promise's voice startled him, and when he looked up he was a little flabbergasted that she had been sitting there all along. He wasn't sure where she would have gone, but he was more than a little spacey at the moment.

He shifted, trying to sit himself up a little, but mostly failing. "Wonderful," he croaked, wishing he had some saliva in his mouth.

She didn't believe him, not that he'd actually expected her to. But saying that he felt like someone had drained all the liquid out of his body and left him to shrivel up like a raisin while using his head for a drum was probably a little too graphic and too much of a downer.

Besides, denial could be kind of fun. And he was good at it—he'd learned from the best. Niko and his damn faith in Cal was truly little more than well-intentional denial, a refusal to accept the plain and obvious.

His _how are you_ back to her barely sounded like English, but she seemed to get the gist of it anyway.

She pursed her lips, taking a slow and steady breath. "Tired."

That much was true, but he knew that was just the only part she was willing to admit.

How long had it been? Cal had no idea, no concept of anything except a constant need to rest and a low rumble in his stomach. It seemed like only minutes ago she'd drank from him. Or maybe hours. Maybe days. "You hungry?"

Her face tensed, then went purposefully blank.

"Give me a bit," he said, wheezing a bit. "Then you can have some more."

He could see the protest in her eyes, perhaps something more, but she didn't say anything. The room was filled only with the sound of Cal's struggled breaths.

When he calmed, he was exhausted which was about par for the course. He was drifting somewhere near sleep when he heard her voice.

"I'm sorry it's you," she said.

He lifted his head slightly, looking at hear wearily. "What?"

"That it's you who had to see this in me," she said. "I never wanted anyone to see this part of me again."

Cal knew he should probably say something, _anything_, but his mind was fuzzy and before he could even being to formulate a reply, she was still talking.

"It was not easy to give up human blood," she said, her voice distant, faraway. "I never enjoyed the killing, but the blood—" She sighed, smiling a little sadly. "The blood is like the richest wine you could ever drink. It satisfies hunger so completely, so purely."

Cal swallowed, uncertain how to respond. He couldn't exactly empathize with that one, but he didn't want to say something for fear of silencing her.

She looked at him briefly, her smiling fading. "It just seemed so barbaric," she said. "And I was tired of being a monster, of being different. I wanted a place among them more than I wanted to drink of them. That is why I gave it up."

That much, he could respect. Knowing he was part Auphe had influenced every decision in his life. He didn't want to be confused with the monstrous part of his ancestry and so he'd often gone great lengths to _not _appear like that. He had a harder time of hiding it than Promise did. Or maybe she'd just had more time to practice it. "How did you do it?"

She looked surprised at his question and she smiled slightly. "It was not easy. I tried other things first. I tried other bloods from animals, but they always turned my stomach. And then I tried only drinking some, not draining the victims, much like I am with you."

Cal's stomach tightened. Somehow, he was pretty sure he didn't want to know how that turned out.

"But in the end, it was never enough. The taste of blood, of human blood, was simply too strong. It is more addictive than any opiate known to man. I simply could not be around it. So I turned to other sources for the nutrients I needed. As medicine advanced, I was able to better identify the minerals. It helps—but it's not the same."

The shock of her confessions was still rippling through his muddied mind. These were personal things, deep things, things he doubted even Niko had heard.

"I've been hungry for centuries."

There were no words of comfort for that. The admission lingered and Cal felt uncertainty settle uncomfortably over him. "It's that sacrifice alone that makes you a good person," Cal said finally. "It's that kind of thing, that strength, that makes Niko love you."

She looked at him wearily, her eyes old and tired. "I'm so hungry, Caliban," she said. "I'm so hungry."

Blanching, Cal steeled himself, trying to recount how much blood he'd given her. His mind was fuzzy, but he could feel the distant throbbing in both his wrists. "I can spare some more."

Her eyes clouded with pity. "You are barely coherent," she said. "You can't even move." She shook her head. "No, I have taken more than I should already."

Damn, was he that bad off? He was tired but he hadn't really thought about it. But now that she mentioned it, the fuzziness was more than a little pervasive.

Something inside of him felt like destiny, felt like it was meant to be. Maybe he should have died at birth. Maybe he should have died with Darkling. Maybe he should have fallen back into hell where all his nightmares still lived and breathed and haunted him. He'd fought to live, fought to be alive, but there was always something. Auphe, Abbagor, werewolves, Hob.

No matter how hard Niko tried, no matter how tightly he clung to life, no matter how much Promise tried to help, it couldn't always be enough. Not when everything evil, everything dark, every _thing_ was out to get him.

Someday, they would win. Maybe it was best to die knowing he had at least saved someone doing it. It might make his life more meaningful than anything else he'd ever done.

But the thought drifted away before he could give it voice.

-o-

The first bout of delirium was pretty messed up, even for Cal. He was used to looking for things lurking in the dark, for watching for monsters in the shadows, so when he saw the shadows moving, it didn't really seem all that abnormal.

He couldn't make out the creature—it was large but somehow completely invisible in the small space. Which didn't make any sense. If it was invisible then he wouldn't have seen it at all.

Promise was staring at him, wide-eyed and concerned. "Did you see that?" Cal asked, trying to lift his finger to point to the wall behind her.

Cal guessed she hadn't because she just looked at him, her eyes narrowing now. "Caliban, what are you saying?"

That was a ridiculous question because vamps had good hearing, really good hearing, better than his, he was pretty sure. "The monsters," he said. "Do you see the monsters?"

"There are no monsters," she said. "Cal, there are no monsters."

And _that _was even more ridiculous, so ridiculous, that Cal couldn't stop himself from laughing. Because here they were, a vampire and an Auphe in one tiny little underground cavern. It would be pretty hard to get more monsters in such little square footage.

That's when he got it, as she was looking at him like he'd grown horns, which would really be an interesting development in his genetic history, because he was seeing things.

The freakin' shadows were nothing more than a hallucination.

He laughed again.

"Caliban, talk to me," she said, commanded really, in that soft, gentle voice of hers that _sounded _like a suggestion but really wasn't. He wondered how Niko dealt with that one.

He was delirious, which was just freakin' _peachy_, because how the hell would anyone take him seriously if he was seeing things on the walls?

Then again, no one took him seriously anyway.

And seriously, that monster could _eat_ Promise. She'd probably taste better than he would. "Be careful," he warned as she leaned closer.

"Careful of what?"

"Of the monsters!" he said, a bit indignantly. Imaginary or not, monsters could be pretty deadly and Cal did _not _want to take chances with Niko's girl.

"Just rest," she said. "Sleep."

He had to admit, that did sound like a good idea. He kind of missed his bed, but the rocks would do, and if all there were were monsters hanging around out here, then maybe sleep would be safer.

Yeah, safer, so much safer, and when he woke up maybe he'd imagine Niko here for some kind of rescue.

The idea made him smile and he felt Promise's hand on his head as he drifted back to sleep.

-o-

Cal was dying.

In her time, she had seen death in many forms, some quick, some slow, most of them painful. She had killed and watched death, from a distance, from up close, in her own two hands.

It wasn't the same as watching Cal die. He slept along the wall, curled onto his side, looking small and helpless. Promise remained firmly along the opposite wall, her eyes never leaving Cal.

Cal's body was shutting down, malnutrition and dehydration weighing heavily upon him. If Niko didn't hurry...

She didn't let herself finish the thought.

Niko would never accept Cal's fate. It was perhaps his only weakness, his only flaw. When it came to his little brother, Niko was hopelessly illogical, inanely hopeful, strident in his denial. It was because of that attitude alone that Cal was even alive at all.

If anyone would find them, she knew Niko would. Niko would not rest, would not let Robin rest, would not let George rest.

They needed to hurry.

It had been a week. Her internal clock was accurate and strong, and she could feel the rise and fall of the moon even without being outdoors. She hadn't told Cal that, not even when the boy had asked, because she knew the passage of time would only make him more fatalistic.

The human body could survive up to four days without water. Cal had already survived that and more, though now he was fading quickly. She could only attribute his strength to his Auphe half. There was no telling how deeply integrated the Auphe physiology was embedded into his human anatomy. Undoubtedly, this time, the monster in him had saved his life—but even it could only hold out so long.

There was also the concussion to consider, not to mention the blood loss, which would be working heavily against the boy. No matter how she looked at it, he was running out of time.

She clenched her teeth.

That much was her fault. When Cal had offered the blood, she had accepted it under the pretense that they would be rescued long before Cal's lack of water would be in question. Cal had offered it to her to tide her over. The boy had probably been oblivious of how the loss affected him; she had been too desperate to care.

She could have written off his sleepiness as tried and true Cal. She found that boy sleeping more often than not even in the worst of circumstances.

The hallucinations were another thing entirely, as were the headaches that made him nearly incoherent. And they were more and more prevalent. It had been far too long since Cal had been coherent, and she feared that if they weren't rescued soon, Niko would find nothing but a corpse that used to be his brother.

It was her fault. The blame was not hers alone, but she bore a culpability she could not run from. There was no place to hide in their small prison. No place to outrun death, to outrun guilt, to outrun herself.

-o-

She awoke to the sound of Cal calling for his brother.

The boy was shaking, would have been thrashing if he'd had the energy.

She moved to him, looking him over worriedly. His eyes were closed and he was flushed.

"'m sorry," he slurred. "…wasn't Nik's fault. He didn't want to. It was me."

She shushed him, smoothing a hand over his forehead.

"Please, Mom," Cal begged. "It was me. It always is, no matter what Nik says."

She was not easily moved, but seeing Caliban's pleading touched her with an intensity she had not felt for centuries.

He was just so young. So young and vulnerable. Granted, he was well-trained and could be deadly. She'd seen him fight off more foes than many skilled fighters could. But his vulnerability ran deep, where training and Niko's reassurance could hardly reach, into the depths of his doubts over his soul.

And with that, she could feel his innocence. A child deprived of love, happiness, childhood. His loneliness was encompassing and nearly insurmountable and she suddenly understood why Niko devoted every ounce of himself to Cal.

Without it, quite simply, Cal would never survive.

Cal was so terrified of being the monster, that he never realized that he had in fact been the victim all along. If he hadn't been consumed by something far more sinister, he would have killed himself without Niko's steady presence.

"Sorry," Cal moaned again. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."

"Oh, Caliban," she soothed. "You don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this."

He whimpered, turning away from her touch, as though trying to avoid the sympathy he didn't feel he could accept. In all her years, nothing had ever broken her heart like this.

-o-

He'd managed to lose track of the time. Sleep did that to him, and he certainly was prone to lapsing in and out of awareness these days. It didn't help that there was no real light source, though Promise probably preferred it that way.

And things were hazy, kind of soft around the edges. The floor, which used to be so uncomfortable was fine—he couldn't even really feel the rocks that poked into his back.

Because none of it mattered. His body was fading. He was fading.

Damn it all. He was halfway dead already.

Every breath was tight. Every movement ached. His lethargy permeated everything. And it was probably best he _didn't _know how long they'd been stuck there, or he'd become acutely aware of how dehydrated he was.

Even an Auphe couldn't live without water forever, apparently.

He sighed, closing his eyes. Niko would be pissed about this. Niko would kick his ass from here to China for dying like this.

The thought made him smile. He really was delusional. But, damn, he missed his brother. He would give anything to see Nik, to hear his brother's cool and calm voice, to tell him it wasn't his fault.

Promise coughed, and Cal opened his eyes, turning his head slightly to see her huddled along the other wall. Her elegance was gone now and she looked unkempt and lowly. Clearly, the blood he'd managed to provide her wasn't enough. She was fading just as fast as he was. Well, maybe not _that_ fast.

He didn't want to die. He _really_ didn't want to die. He'd been there and done that and it wasn't the best thing in the world. And he really didn't want to die like this, smacked over the head and abandoned in some underground cavern.

But that didn't matter. His hours were numbered and while he trusted Niko's damn near perfect timing, he needed to start on plan B.

Namely, saving those who could be saved.

That meant Promise. She was the only other person Niko truly loved in this world. She was probably the best thing in Niko's life, was better for Niko than he would ever be. And, quite simply, if either of them deserved to live, it was her. Sure, she wasn't exactly free from darkness and other worldly things, but she wasn't a bastardized attempt to destroy the world either. If only one of them was making it out, it needed to be her.

He would save her. His last great, heroic act, for whatever that was worth. What better way to save her than giving her free access to a blood bank?

Movement was impossible by now, and he wasn't even sure he had enough saliva to make his vocal chords work. He struggled though, persevering enough to get Promise's attention.

She moved to him quickly, surely, grabbing his hand and squeezing it. "Caliban? Are you with me?"

He nodded, barely, licking his cracked lips futilely.

She smiled, soft and maternal, and he was struck with how beautiful she was. She'd always been graceful, always been impressive. But the way she looked at him, the earnestness of her eyes. And suddenly he knew exactly why Niko loved her.

Yet she was frayed, falling apart around the edges. Her face was gaunt with a hunger Cal couldn't even imagine. It burned in the depths of her eyes.

"Blood," he said, his voice a croaking whisper. "You need—"

A cough cut him off, shuddering painfully throughout his body until he collapsed limply from the exertion.

Promise's eyes still held his, apologetic now. "I never should have taken it."

He shook his head, with a rush of vehemence. "You need it."

"So do you."

But Cal would not be deterred. He thrust his wrist in front of her, hoping she understood. "Take it," he said, or gasped really. His voice was giving out, growing wet and weak.

Her eyes widened. "Cal, I cannot—"

He shook his head, trying to focus through the fading world. "I can't survive without water anyway. At least one of us can make it out of here."

That speech wore him out, left him spent, and he broke into an even more feeble fit of coughing that sent new stabs of pain up and down his failing body.

Her hands were on him, soft and comforting, holding him until the pain subsided. Blearily, he looked up at her, taking in her face, her hair, everything.

His brother loved her.

If he couldn't save himself, he'd save her.

"Please," he said, hoping his eyes conveyed what his voice couldn't. He was fading, fast, and there was too much to say, too much to do. "Do it...for Niko."

She held his gaze, her own eyes watering with a grief he'd never seen in her before.

"Please," he murmured, and the pain was strong now, encompassing and paralyzing. It was worse than when he was stabbed, worse without Niko, but the same fatalistic reality was there. He had no way out but into the darkness from which he was born and always destined to return to.

He didn't give in though, not yet, not until her eyes misted over and she nodded curtly. Then he closed his eyes and melted into oblivion.

-o-

Cal didn't wake up. His complexion grew waxy, his lips colorless. His breathing was labored and fast and his skin was hot and dry to the touch.

She rolled him on his side, keeping herself stationed in front of him, hoping to ease the passage of his dwindling breaths. But staying near him was difficult.

Because she could see the blood that stained his neck and t-shirt. And she could see the raw puncture marks on his outstretched wrists, bled and crusty.

She slinked away, back to the far wall of their prison.

She would not drink from him. She'd taken too much already. He was generous, he had offered, but she had not killed for blood in centuries. She would not dehumanize herself, especially not with Niko's brother.

Closing her eyes, she secluded herself, locked herself in her mind, the only last safe place she had. Her resolve was weak, crumbling with her body's frailty. Breathing deeply, she steadied herself, tried to make the hunger diminish.

A harsh, wet coughing jarred her, and she opened her eyes to find Cal's body spasming.

Though his eyes remained closed behind blue-tinted lids, his body was racked with shivers as he unconsciously retched. Vomit welled up in his mouth, seeping down his cheek.

But not enough. The boy was choking on it.

Without thinking, she rushed to his side, rolling him farther on his belly, holding his bangs back and keeping his head toward the floor.

The odor wafted to her nose but she ignored it, too intent on Cal's condition. When the heaves subsided, Cal fell still again. Using her finger, she opened Cal's jaw, cleaning out whatever remnants remained.

When finished, she wiped her hand absently on her skirt, which was long since ruined. Then she rolled Cal onto his back, moving him away from his own bile, and started to check him.

He appeared no worse, still unconscious and unwaveringly so. Her fingers graced the lump on the back of his head, feeling the crusty old blood that had long since coagulated.

Her stomach groaned and she clenched her teeth hard, keeping her fingers steadily moving through Cal's hair, trying not to think about it, not to remember it...

Cal's blood.

She wanted it. She wanted it more than she could even explain.

Shaking, she stopped her stroking, letting her hand linger on his cheek.

He didn't even flinch.

Gently, she turned his head to the side, exposing the long lines of his throat. He wasn't as finely built as Niko, but he was a beautiful man. More of a child, really, so young and vibrant. She doubted Cal had any idea of just how much light radiated from his dark form. He was unlike any other being she'd ever met.

Of course, he was too insecure, too difficult, too abrasive for her romantic interest. But he was a fascinating being, and she could see why Niko was so bound to him.

Not that having Cal as little brother made Niko's life easier. It was true, Cal's influence on Niko had made Niko much the man he was today. But Cal's future—it was dark, grim, clouded. Cal's future was one they would fight for every moment of every day. Even then, Promise doubted that Cal's future would end in any way but tragic. Niko was fighting a lost cause, which was what made it noble. But it made Niko distracted. It hurt him.

And she hated to see Niko hurt.

It would kill Niko to find Cal dead.

But maybe not if she was there. Maybe she could comfort him, find a way to help him through it. She could help Niko not be alone.

All she had to do was survive.

For that, all she needed was blood.

Her sharp eyes could see the blood pumping sluggishly beneath Cal's translucent skin. The boy would only last a few more hours, at best, Auphe or human. She could ease his passing, diminish his suffering.

And satisfy her needs

Her soul yearned for it.

Moving to her knees, she laid a gentle hand on Cal's chest. She could bleed him from the neck, take what she needed and renew her strength, give her time and energy and put Cal to rest.

Solemnly, she checked Cal's pulse, finding it quick and uneven. She closed her eyes, feeling the desire throb in tandem with Cal's heartbeat.

No, she was not a monster. She would not take for her alone. She would do it for Cal.

Eyes open, she took in Cal's body stretched before her. Reverently, she straightened his legs. Then, gently, she lifted his hands, crossing them over his chest. As they rested there, she squeezed them, hoping to communicate to the boy even in his darkness that she cared for him.

Moving back to his head, she rolled his face towards her once again, taking a moment to clear the remnants of the vomit from his face. She wet her fingers, cleaning his pale cheeks, feeling his hot skin stretch beneath her fingers.

Then she smoothed his hair, cowing the wayward locks from his face until he looked as she best remembered him. She let her eyes linger, taking him in, studying him in his last moments of life.

She closed her eyes finally, and whispered an ancient incantation, one from centuries ago, believed to bring the soul to peace. Whatever awaited young Caliban, she could only hope it was more peaceful than the tumultuous life he'd been forced to live.

Finished, she turned his head to the side again, pulling his shirt collar away from his neck. With a silent apology to Niko, she leaned over Cal, her face so close to his, feeling his warmth, his life, how beyond the stench of Auphe, she could smell Niko on him.

Tears blinded her until she squeezed her eyes shut, lowered her teeth, and sunk in.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This is the end. And I apologize in advance for any cheese that may come. I hope they stayed in character, and there is plenty of angst left before the end. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. And seriously, we all need to keep pimping these books. They're amazing :) And the website that got garbled last chapter is www(dot)auphe-the-cuff(dot)com. Check it out! Thanks to sendintheclowns and geminigrl11 and to all of you!

-o-

**PART THREE**

It was glorious.

It was like eating for the first time ever, being exposed to a rich buffet of succulent and exotic treats. The blood from the neck was purer, brighter than from the extremities, and she had forgotten how it felt. It was decadent and invigorating. It satisfied her like nothing else ever or ever would again.

She groaned, digging her teeth deeper, begging for more.

The blood filled her mouth sluggishly, too slowly.

Desperate, she pulled the body closer, lifting it so it was in her lap. She pushed its head viciously to the side, giving her better access to the neck.

She was going too fast, she knew that. She knew it would be gone too soon, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. She couldn't bring herself to think of anything. There was nothing to her, nothing beyond the intoxicating taste of this blood in her mouth, decorating her lips, and running down her throat. It warmed her belly, tickled her insides, and she groaned again.

There was no sound, no light, nothing beyond this.

Until she heard the voice. "No."

Startled, she looked up, her mouth pulling away from her victim.

There, standing at a chewed-out hole in the wall, a man, tall and well-built, blond hair falling to his shoulders.

She knew him.

She loved him.

Niko.

His eyes were wide, his stance defensive. "What are you doing?" he demanded, in a tone so deadly, so angry, that she found it hard to remember.

That was when awareness fully returned to her and she looked down at the body in her arms.

Cal.

He was sprawled limply across her, his legs in front of him and his arms draped across her. His head hung low against her shoulder, dark strands of hair falling into his face, obscuring the paleness. His left wrist rested palm up, exposing the red and inflamed bite marks. His shirt was ripped at the collar, stained with blood that trickled from the gash in his neck.

"What are you doing?" Niko asked again, moving forward with an intensity never before directed at her.

She gaped, her mouth moving open and closed, and she could still taste Cal's blood on her tongue, coating her teeth. Shaking, she lowered him, resting him on his side and she stumbled away.

Luckily, Niko's fury was only topped by his concern for his brother. The older brother rested on his haunches next to Cal, one hand steady on his brother's shoulder, the other trying to peer into his face.

"He has a concussion," she heard herself say, too cold, too scared. "And he's dehydrated."

Niko had already shrugged out of his t-shirt, holding it hard against Cal's weeping neck. His eyes flashed angrily at her. "And he's low on blood volume," he seethed.

She searched for an explanation, a reason, something to tell Niko, to make it better, but her voice wouldn't work. It didn't matter anyway. Niko wasn't even looking at her.

"Damn it, Cal," he muttered. "You need to stay with me." He glanced over his shoulder to the hole. "Goodfellow! Quickly!"

Watching blankly, she saw Goodfellow stumble into the cavern, looking around in shock. "I've got the supplies," the puck said, his hands full. Then his eyes registered the scene in front of him and Promise could feel his eyes probing her in shock and skepticism. "What happened?"

"I need water," Niko said curtly, ignoring his questions. "Water and gauze."

Goodfellow tore his eyes from Promise, moving to Niko's side. He crouched next to him, holding out the water.

Niko took the bottle with his free hand. "Roll him on his back and apply pressure to his wound. I think a pressure bandage will secure it. When we get back home we can see if it needs stitches. You have the saline?"

The puck took a hold of the shirt, easing Cal onto his back before reapplying the pressure with vigor. "Back at the apartment, ready to go. All the IV equipment's there."

Niko didn't even nod. He was too busy opening the bottle of water. Carefully, he lifted his brother's head, forcing his jaw open and holding the bottle to his lips. "You need to drink something, Cal," he coaxed.

Cal didn't respond, remained limp under his touch. Niko tilted the bottle forward, and water trickled into Cal's mouth, spilling down his chin.

Goodfellow, for his part, was unusually steadfast. With one hand, he maintained pressure; with the other, he was working the gauze and tape. Swiftly, he replaced the t-shirt, swaddling the neck she had damaged, before securing it with tape. "Is he taking any?" Robin asked quietly, nodding to the bottle.

Niko's face creased grimly. "Not enough."

"Anything helps," Goodfellow said helpfully, before glancing nervously back at Promise.

Cursing, Niko took the bottle away from Cal's lip, lowering his brother's head to the ground and screwing on the cap. "He needs blood."

Goodfellow raised his eyebrows. "We don't have—"

"He needs it," Niko snapped. "His heart rate is too fast and I can barely feel a pulse in his wrists. With the dehydration, I don't know if he'll be able to rebound fast enough. Can you retrieve some?"

Goodfellow gaped at him a moment, his eyes going from Niko's stony face to Cal's limp features. "Okay," he said finally. "I'll meet you back at the apartment."

"Quickly," Niko ordered.

Goodfellow turned and met Niko's gaze, nodding sympathetically. "Quickly."

Niko held the eye contact, nodding resolutely, before turning back to his brother as the puck disappeared out the hole.

With Goodfellow's exit, Niko returned his attention fully on his brother. Cal, for his part, had still not moved and was laid sprawled just as Niko's shaking had left him.

Just like_ she _had left him.

Her mind rebelled and so did her stomach. She did this. She did all of this. She'd nearly killed him. She _was_ a monster.

Niko didn't notice her distress, and Cal certainly was not capable of it. It was like watching from another room, another life. She was totally removed from their interaction.

Murmuring so softly that Promise couldn't make out the words, Niko carefully pulled his brother to a sitting position, letting Cal's head rest in the crook of his neck. Shoving the water in his pocket, he maneuvered himself to a steadier position, preparing to pull Cal over his shoulder. It was awkward work, especially with how loose-limbed Cal was. His body swung in Niko's grip, heavily listing to the side as Niko tried to manage it.

As Niko attempted to pull Cal, the younger brother nearly fell altogether and Promise found herself moving to Niko's side, her hands instinctively moving to catch Cal.

She was surprised when Niko's grip tightened, pulling Cal away from her viciously before turning fiery eyes upon her.

"Do _not_ touch him," Niko said, his voice low and dangerous, the voice he used with his enemies. She had never known Niko to be an angry or malicious man, yet she shrunk away from his voice.

Niko's eyes glistened as he turned away from her, putting his full attention back into his brother. It took a moment, but Niko hoisted Cal over his shoulder, securely grasping his brother's legs while Cal's torso flopped against Niko's back, his long arms flapping against Niko's thighs.

Promise didn't move, didn't dare move until Niko was standing and toward the hole. Her shock wore off long enough to collect Cal's discarded jacket, the leftover gauze, and then follow Niko out the hole.

-o-

Niko still didn't speak to her, but he didn't make her go. He tolerated her silent presence without grace or compassion.

She followed behind them, noticing how Niko's shoulders trembled under Cal's weight, how the younger brother's arms flapped against his brother's back with each step they took.

To her surprise, the hole only burrowed for a short distance before opening up into a man-made corridor. A subway tunnel, an abandoned access point, it seemed.

Niko moved quickly and without hesitation, navigating the dark tunnel system with an efficiency that only he could maintain under such circumstances. Soon, they were climbing stairs, thankfully abandoned, before emptying out into a quiet side street.

It didn't make sense. None of it made sense. She hadn't known where they'd been kept, but it had seemed like the center of the earth, like miles away from civilization, from life, from hope.

And yet, in just five minutes, there she was. Breathing pure New York City morning air.

She flinched, surprised by the sun. It always seemed bright to her, but now it seemed especially garish. She fumbled for her cloak, flinging it over her head haphazardly to avoid getting burned.

Not that she really saw the point in it.

Her main focus was on Cal, limp in Niko's arms. The boy had yet to move, and she wondered how long he could hold on. The boy had seemed indestructible, having survived so much. Maybe he'd been right. Maybe he could even survive her.

She had a feeling that her relationship with Niko was not so easily salvaged. Because the way he'd looked at her—the coldness, the terror, the anger. It was like he saw her for the first time, saw her for what she really was: a monster.

-o-

It felt funny to walk; it felt funny to breathe. But both came with such force, such vigor, that she could not deny the swelling of her soul to be alive and free.

That was thanks to Cal.

The rest came to her in flashes.

There was a van, no doubt Goodfellow's contribution, parked along the street, haloed by the light of a streetlight.

The ride was bumpy, awkward, Promise stuffed in the far back, Cal stretched out on the seat behind Niko. Niko drove with one hand on the wheel, the other always reaching back to his brother.

She barely recognized the apartment, but watched as Niko almost dropped his brother in his haste to get inside. There was an uncharacteristic swearing, but still he did not waver.

Promise followed at a distance, terrified to be closer, unable to distance herself.

Inside, the apartment felt stale, stuffy, and looked unkempt. She trailed after Cal toward the bedroom, but then Niko finally spoke.

"Stay here," he growled, low and dangerous and like an arrow to the heart.

Shaking, broken, she sank to the couch and wished she could cry.

-o-

The world was buzzing, deep and insistently, and his limbs tingled with sensation. It felt heavy, it felt wrong, and he didn't want to feel it anymore.

He groaned, tried to turn away, tried to disappear, but there was something—someone. "Cal? Cal?"

The voice was scared, relieved, hopeful, tired. Niko.

"Cal?"

He may fuss and complain but he never could deny Niko when it mattered. Cracking his eyes, he was blinded by light and movement, and his stomach churned with a wave of nausea. He closed his eyes again.

"Damn it, Goodfellow, I need the blood," Niko hissed, his voice sounding different this time, more distant.

There was a grumbling somewhere, but he couldn't make it out.

Awareness was unrelenting, simmering throughout every synapse in his body with an intensity that suddenly scared him. He was weak, powerless, and he didn't know why. He was fading, dying, and it _hurt_.

"He's—hurry—the saline roused him—"

There was some fumbling near him, next to him, and Cal opened his eyes again, taking in the dimness of his bedroom. Niko was on the bed next to him, working with something in his hand. Robin crouched on the floor, holding his arm out. The puck smiled.

"Morning, Caliban," he said with a friendly smile.

He had a thousand questions, a million fears, and no way to do anything but stare.

"I know, I know," Robin said lightly, as if he understood everything. "But we're taking care of you. You'll be up and ready to brood again in no time."

"Hold him steady," Niko hissed, and Cal's eyes flashed to his brother. Niko's hair looked dirty, frayed. There were bags under his eyes. He caught Cal's eyes and offered a watery smile. "You're going to feel a needle stick," Nik coached him gently. "But you'll feel better soon. I promise."

And that was about all Cal needed, all Cal ever needed. Niko's word was golden, and Cal would believe that until the day he died. His eyes drifted closed and he let himself float, until a sharpness in his arms made him cry out.

"Almost there," Robin whispered, lulling Cal back toward oblivion. Robin's hands were on him, gentle, calming. "Almost."

Cal wanted to cry, but didn't know how. He wanted to wake up, but didn't have the resources. He wanted to sleep, but was afraid to try.

"Rest," Niko soothed, letting a sure hand drop on his forehead. "Rest."

And Cal obeyed.

-o-

Hours passed. Hours of hushed voices from the bedroom, hissed orders, nervous scuffling.

When someone finally emerged, it was Goodfellow, looking a bit ragged, though still in typical form. His designer clothes were only slightly rumpled, a nearly imperceptible sheen of sweat glistening at his hairline.

She straightened, looking up at him imploringly. "How is he?"

The puck just looked at her, uncertainly, as he went to the kitchen and pulled one of Niko's bottles of water from the fridge. He unscrewed it, sinking himself into the chair.

"Goodfellow?" she asked, her voice demanding and desperate.

"He's perking up," Robin said finally. "The saline and the blood are working their magic. Niko's making sure he doesn't have a reaction. He won't be leaving that boy's side any time soon."

She felt herself sag with relief, releasing a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Goodfellow fiddled with his water bottle, sloshing the liquid around as he tried not to look at her. "He's pretty angry," he said finally, almost reluctantly.

Her eyes flashed to him, dark and suspicious. Goodfellow had been an ally, that was true, but she knew his affections for Niko. "My concerns are for Cal alone," she snapped. "His well-being is what matters to me."

This seemed to surprise Goodfellow and his expression softened, but remained reserved, cautious. Cautious of _her_. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Her throat constricted and her eyes burned. But she needed to tell him; it was her only chance. Her only chance at redemption started here, through this puck, and maybe, in time, Niko could forgive her too. Caliban was another matter entirely. "We were meeting Frederick Ely," she started, steeling her voice. "He said he wanted to hire us."

"He didn't," Robin surmised knowingly.

She shook her head curtly. "They overpowered Cal by force and took me with a drug. When I woke up, we were in the cavern. There was no way out. No food. No water."

"They left you there to die," Goodfellow said and she got the impression he already knew.

She just nodded, feeling empty. She wanted to tell him more. She _needed _to tell him more, but the words didn't come. She settled for her own questions instead. "How did you find us?"

"Niko followed up on the trail of Ely," Goodfellow explained. He paused taking a swig of water. "He shook down every contact he could find. They covered their tracks well, but you know how...persuasive Niko can be."

She did. She'd seen his doggedness when Cal went missing while inhabited by Darkling. More than that, she knew his soul, his unwavering determination.

"It was an experiment," Robin said finally. "Some kind of twisted science project."

Her eyes widened.

"They were filming you, taking notes on how you both responded," Goodfellow told her. He nodded to the pile of equipment and tapes on the dining room table. "We raided their lab. I scoured the material, looking for clues. Niko tried to blast through every wall underground New York. We're lucky the whole damn city didn't catch on to what we were doing."

It was too much information, too fast. "They were...testing us?"

Goodfellow nodded. "There were others before you. Different species, genders, ages."

The news was overwhelming. She hadn't known what she expected, but she didn't expect this. She didn't expect to know she'd been used, violated so basically. Revenge was understandable. She knew how to cope with that. It was degrading, but not completely demoralizing.

This—Promise felt nauseous. She'd been stalked, captured, and observed like a rat in a maze, someone with a clipboard noting how many times she ran into walls.

"Why?" she managed to ask. "Why would they do this?"

Robin's face grew serious, his lips tight. "They wanted to know what beings would do to survive. How much they'd sacrifice. The footage is—" The puck actually blanched. "—the footage is despicable."

_They wanted to know what beings would do to survive_.

They'd wanted to know if the monsters within came out.

She'd proved them right.

She'd walked right into it. If not for Niko, she would have killed Cal, killed him like he was nothing, killed him like the monster _she_ was.

It was too much. Tears burned in her eyes and her stomach turned violently. She staggered to her feet, lurching to the bathroom.

Goodfellow stood with her, reaching out to steady her. "Easy," he said. "I imagine you're more than a bit dehydrated yourself. I know vampires don't need water and food like humans do, but you've got to give your body some time to recover."

She heard him, somehow, but she didn't really understand what he'd said. It took a minute to get her feet, but didn't shake away Robin's hand. "What if he dies?"

Goodfellow paled a little, his jaw tightening before he smoothed his face with a smile. "That boy has survived too much to die like this."

His assurance fell on her numbly.

Robin sighed, releasing her arm carefully. "You didn't want to hurt him," he said. "I know you tried to fight it."

"Not hard enough," she whispered. "Not hard enough."

"I saw the tape," he told her. "I saw everything, and then I destroyed it. I never let Niko see it. It means nothing, Promise."

"Tell that to Niko," she said. "Tell that to Cal."

Shushing her, Goodfellow eased her to the seat. "Take a drink, okay?" he said, picking up her bottle and offering it to her.

Suddenly without strength, she couldn't shake his help and meagerly accepted the water.

She didn't know how to deal with the deep thirst that saturated her. But it wasn't for water.

It was for blood.

-o-

There was this noise.

A rustling, soft and gentle by his head.

Which made no sense at all. Why the hell was anything his bedroom to begin with? Couldn't a guy get some kind of privacy?

Then Cal remembered that he really was in some freaky underground cavern. Trapped. With Promise. Promise—

Wait, he was on a bed. There was a pillow under his head. What the hell?

He stirred, trying to open his eyes.

"Cal? You awake in there?"

The easy, silken voice was Goodfellow. The puck. He knew the puck was kinky, but what was he doing in Cal's _bedroom_ while Cal was _asleep_.

He attempted to tell Robin in no uncertain terms to _go away_.

"What?" Goodfellow asked. "You're not making much sense there."

He tried for obscenities, hoping that'd get his point across.

"Easy, Caliban," Goodfellow said, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. "You've been pretty out of it now. It's been nearly twelve hours."

Twelve hours? Twelve hours since what? Had he suddenly fallen into the twilight zone? And Robin babbled on the best of days, so why couldn't he _for once_ try to be a little coherent this time? His head was killing him and his mind seemed to have the attention span of a flea.

"Nik's asleep in the other room," Robin continued. "I practically had to drag him away from you, not that I minded that, you know."

Cal could practically see the suggestive waggle of Robin's perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"I told him I'd keep watch over you. He seems to think you're going to fall apart if he's not there. Not that this recent kidnapping thing you had going really instilled much confidence in him to the contrary."

Cal glared at that, trying again to open his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, I know," Robin said in consolation. There was a pause and Cal wondered briefly if he'd fallen asleep again. He wasn't that lucky. "It's a miracle you survived at all."

There was sadness, a fear in Goodfellow's voice that surprised him.

The hand on his arm squeezed gently. "I'm glad you're okay," he said. "Now rest up before Niko realizes you're awake and I have to tie him to the bed."

Cal didn't even have to think twice.

-o-

Niko was angry.

Cal twitched a smile. Niko could be so funny when he was angry. It was a sight to see his usually Zen-like brother submitting to the same anger that seemed to control the rest of the world.

It would have been funnier if he wasn't trying to sleep. Nik always did have this annoying habit of doing things on a timeline that only made sense to him. Big brother's prerogative, or something. And Niko did think that Cal slept too much.

"...why didn't you come get me?" Niko was asking, his voice straining for a lower decibel but not achieving it.

"You were asleep," Robin responded logically.

Normally, logic with Nik was good. Unless it had to do with Cal.

"I told you I wanted to be with him if he woke up—he could be—who knows what memories he has of this whole thing."

That, perversely, was enough to bring Cal fully out of his slumber. Niko was in full-on big brother mode, trying to mother hen him like he was still six years old. He knew the guy had changed his diapers and pretty much performed every other motherly duty possible, but he was an _adult_ now. And, more than that, he was _fine_.

If he could have opened his eyes and _focused _on the room, he might have been more convincing on that point.

"Relax," Robin said easily. "He was fine. Barely even awake. The kid didn't even seem distressed."

Damn right he didn't. Embarrassed, sure, for letting the midget get the drop on him, and tired as all get out, but by this point in his life, Cal's ego had to be nearly nonexistent.

He couldn't see Niko's facial expression, but he didn't really need to. He could pretty well imagine the look of barely restrained rage he was probably staring the puck down with at the moment.

He could also imagine the look of unabashed attraction that was surely emanating from Goodfellow.

Those two should really get a room. Preferably not his.

"Look, why don't you go check on him?" Robin finally offered. "He's done with the blood and the second saline should be empty by now, too. With all that, the kid should be ready to wake up."

"Fine," Niko growled. "Go make some broth, and find some crackers from the cabinet. When he's awake, I want him to be able to eat. He needs to start regaining his energy."

"Sure," Goodfellow said genially. There was a pause. "He's going to be fine, Nik. He really is."

Niko made no response and the hallway lapsed into silence. Which Cal knew meant he was due for a visit any second now.

Struggling, he managed to open his eyes in time to see one bleary looking brother.

Rather, he couldn't totally _see_ Niko because _his_ eyesight was blurry.

Something like a smile crossed Nik's face as he cross the floor to perch on Cal's bed. "You're awake," he commented, resting a hand on his forehead.

Cal squinted, hard, and his brother came into focus. "Yeah," he said, or tried to say before he realized his throat was like sandpaper.

Niko was prepared, holding a bottle of water in front of him before he could even cough. Cal could tell his brother wanted to help him with it, but Cal was ready to be a big boy and try it all on his on. Tentatively, he tried moving his arms to prop himself up on his elbows.

Niko let him, but hovered near him. When Cal was mostly steady, he accepted the bottle of water and held it shakily to his mouth.

"Slowly," Niko advised. "It is likely to make you sick if you drink too fast, and I have no desire to clean up your vomit on top of everything else you've put me through this past week."

Cal glowered, handing the bottle back to his brother before flopping to the bed in a huff. "Nice to see you, too," he grumbled, shifting under the blanket.

Niko ignored him. "How do you feel?"

He was really sick of that question. "Peachy," he said back.

Niko glanced up at the IV pole that they must have snatched, noting the empty saline bag. "If you promise to keep drinking, I won't make you keep the IV."

Cal looked to his arm, noticing the IV sticking out of it near the crook. There was another spot, a little red, where another had already been removed. "You can unstick me now," he said. "I promise to be good."

The look Niko shot him was hardly one of trust and reassurance. "There is little evidence to support that assertion," he said pointedly, but reached for the IV nonetheless.

Cal couldn't help but look, strangely fascinated by the swift and sure motion that had the IV pulled free of his vein. Niko checked it, then handed him a tissue to hold over it while it clotted. Cal grinned. "Thanks," he said. "Feels good to be a free man."

"You may be off the IV, but you are still confined to bed rest until further notice."

"I've been laying down for a _week_, Nik," Cal groaned.

"Which is exactly why you need to regain your strength. I have already employed Robin's over-eager presence in retrieving something for you to eat," Niko said.

A surge of hope passed through him. "A pizza?"

Niko didn't even take pity on him to look amused. Not even a little. "Broth for now," he said. "We'll try feeding you some crackers if you can handle the broth."

Cal groaned. "They're probably wheat crackers, too. Unsalted. From one of your freaky organic stores."

"They will be bland for your stomach," Niko said simply. "After being as dehydrated as you were, we need to build your stomach back up slowly."

Cal took a small sip of water. Being dehydrated, he decided, sucked. "Sounds thrilling," he said, in a less than thrilled voice.

"In a few days, we'll have to get you back into some form of training regimen, something slow and light," Niko continued.

Whoa, wait. A training regimen? "I wasn't even on a _regimen_ before," Cal protested. He barely knew what the word _regimen_ meant, but he knew if Niko was for it, chances were he was completely against it. "There's no way I'm going to start one now."

Niko gave him an appraising look. "You're sicker than you realize," he said. "Besides, I want to try to avoid future incidents. I think a little daily workout would be a fair tradeoff to avoid future situations of peril."

Cal scowled at that. "Are you calling me slow?"

Niko sighed. "This wasn't your fault," he assured him. "But I need to be sure you are fit and prepared. I don't particularly enjoy having to nurse you back to health so often."

Fair enough. For the record, Cal didn't really like being nursed back to health either. It was bad for his image. Not to mention the fact that it made him feel like he was five, a feeling he hadn't even enjoyed when he was, well—five. "So what happened anyway? Where were we? And why were we there?"

Niko's brow furrowed and he looked grave. "What do you remember?"

"Getting knocked out like some rank amateur," he said, all too aware of how petulant he sounded. But he was sick, and he _was_ the younger brother. He had a role to fulfill and since he couldn't really do much else with any gusto, he'd take what he could get.

"Mr. Ely and his associates were quite well-organized," Niko said. "To overtake you and Promise required a great deal of forethought."

He probably could have guessed that. But that still didn't answer the real question: "Why?"

Niko sighed, his even facade cracking ever so slightly. "He lives up to the term mad scientist unlike any other creature I've encountered," Niko said poignantly. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and Cal suddenly noticed how tired and old his brother looked. He really was bad for Niko's health.

The older brother sighed. "It was an experiment," he continued bluntly. "Lock the subjects up with no hope of escape, no contact from the outside world, and see what instinct drives people to do."

Cal didn't know what he'd expected, but he was pretty sure that wasn't it. He couldn't keep his mouth from gaping. "We were lab rats?"

Niko's mouth flattened and he nodded. "They were filming you, but Goodfellow destroyed the evidence. There were dozens of documented cases before you."

Cal's mind worked with that. "Wait, dozens before us?"

Niko nodded.

"And what happened to them?"

Niko looked away.

Cal swore, his shock wearing on his already weak body. He felt himself wilting against the sheets. "Guess I'm lucky I have a hard-headed idiot like you who won't take _gone_ as an answer."

"And I'm lucky I have a brother like you who never gave into it," Niko said. "The other subjects—I scanned the notes. It is remarkable how many turned to cannibalism or suicide. You, though, you hung on."

"I didn't do it alone," Cal pointed out quickly. "Promise was there." That triggered a memory, and he felt guilty he hadn't asked before. "How is she anyway? Things got...dicey in there."

Niko's face, which was usually humorless thanks to Niko's total lack of a sense of humor, grew hard. When no reply was forthcoming, Cal's heart skipped a beat and he tried to push himself up further.

"Nik, what are you telling me? Is Promise okay? I mean, did she get out okay?"

"She's fine," Niko ground out without any luster.

Something was still off. "Well, where is she? I haven't seen her, I would have—"

"She's fine," Niko cut him off firmly, angrily.

Cal didn't know what to say to that. A thousand questions lingered on his tongue, begging to be asked, but he couldn't push anything out.

Uncomfortable, Niko stood in a huff. "I'm going to go see what's taking Goodfellow so long," he said. "Then, you're eating."

Not waiting for a reply, Niko left.

Cal just stared after him, wondering what the hell had happened to his big brother. He knew time apart was stressful for Niko, and he knew how obsessive his brother was when it came to his well-being. But as far as Cal knew, everything was going well with Promise. They'd been together as naturally as if they'd always been together. No glitches, no hiccups. Two centered people, finding more peace in one another.

Or at least that's what he'd thought.

Cal sighed, letting himself sink back into the bed. All this _thinking_ was giving him a headache. And his arm hurt—he scratched absently at the IV site, then remembered the sores on his wrists.

Something in Cal's mind clicked.

He remembered Promise drinking from him, draining each wrist. He remembered himself begging her to take anything else she needed.

He didn't remember anything after that.

Unconsciously, his fingers went to his neck, fondling the bandage there.

So _that_ was what was wrong with Niko.

He closed his eyes, muttering to himself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

It'd been _his_ choice. He'd _told_ her to do it. And who knew what screwed up notion Niko had in his head? And who knew how Promise was coping? Drinking his blood hadn't been fun for him, but it had been emotionally traumatizing for her, Cal was certain of that much. She needed Niko to support her, not shut her out.

Cal had to fix it. Too bad he didn't have a clue how. He knew his brother well enough to know that when his mind was made up, there was practically nothing he could do about it.

He really should have stayed asleep.

-o-

Promise was used to transience. She moved quickly from locale to locale, from city to city, retreat to retreat. Her fifty year stints made her established among each group of human with which she placed herself, but they were all in passing for her. She collected her trinkets from each place, amassing an impressive collection of her life that was nothing more than memories of places far away and times long ago.

She often lived unobtrusively, but comfortably. She did not seek society, but neither did she shun it. And she often found that men and women alike were drawn to her, like moths to the flame, attracted to a mysteriousness in her they confused with grace and elegance.

For a long time, she did shun their companionship. She may have lived among them, excelled in their society, but her friendships were exclusive and hard to achieve. There were too many risks, too many complications. She couldn't tell them the truth, she could never reveal herself entirely, and the separation made her lonely.

But her own kind dwindled and she cared for them less and less. Their exclusivity was based in fear and superiority, and the culture that had life and vibrancy—it was all human. Like most beings, she craved for what she did not have.

It was easy to gain love and friendship.

It was harder to keep, especially when they understood her fangs were not a genetic mutation. Especially when they understood what kept her alive.

Blood.

Their blood.

She could still remember the hysterics in her barrio in Sevilla. The outrage. The chants.

They had burned her home, everything in it, chanting with the fire flickering in their angry eyes _monster, abomination, devil_.

She'd escaped with her life and the determination to be careful. And the sudden conviction that maybe they were right.

How could she live among them and crave to kill them?

Her years in solitude were long and dark, and when she emerged, she reentered with a promise to herself to never touch human blood again.

She always had kept that promise.

Until Caliban Leandros.

Alone in her apartment, among her things, her life, her joys, all she could hear was the mob's angry litany of damnation.

And all she could taste was the sweet, sweet taste of Cal's blood.

-o-

Being able to pee felt _so good_.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone. He supposed it was possible he'd had an accident while he was unconscious, but no one had mentioned anything, and he was pretty sure that dehydration made urine nearly nonexistent anyway.

So when the afternoon came with that familiar tingle in his bladder, he was more than happy to relieve it. Besides, he wanted to get out of that bed that Niko had sentenced him to.

Niko had looked nervous about the whole walking thing (even though Cal had been walking since he was one), but Cal figured his big brother had just been so damned relieved that he had to pee at all that he let Cal go. With an escort all the way, of course. Niko probably would have stayed in the room with him had Cal not glowered him into the hallway.

The process left him refreshed but drained (literally and figuratively) and Cal meekly accepted Nik's help to get him back to bed.

Once settled, Cal felt a lazy wave of sleep wash over him, and he yawned. "I feel like I could sleep for another twelve hours."

"That would hardly be unusual for you," Niko replied.

Cal rolled his eyes. "Mr. Sensitive."

"The sleep will be good for you."

"I was just dehydrated."

"You were hypovolemic," Niko corrected, a small edge to his voice.

He would just have to assume that wasn't good.

His blankness must have been obvious. "You lost over half your blood supply."

Cal just raised his eyebrows. Well, that certainly was a new one for him. No wonder Niko was so freaked out. Cal attempted to smile, hoping to placate his big brother with the assurance that he was _fine_. "I had to take one for the team," he tried to joke.

Niko didn't laugh, which really wasn't all that unusual. But he didn't even attempt a smile; if anything, his face grew more somber, harder. "She had no right to do that to you."

Cal supposed he should at least be grateful that Nik wasn't avoiding the subject. But he could tell this wouldn't be easy to convince Niko of much of anything. Still, he had to try. And his best approach: blunt honesty. "I told her to," he insisted. "I would have slit my wrist and shoved it in her face if I could."

"Cal, you were concussed," Niko said evenly.

As if he didn't already know that from the pounding headache he'd had for nearly a week straight. "That doesn't mean that I didn't know what I was doing."

Niko just stared. "Actually, that would be exactly what it means. I'm not sure whether we need to increase your vocabulary or your medical knowledge."

Cal scrunched his nose. Niko may have had a point there, but there was no way he was going to get Cal to spend more time studying out of this. And his brother was distracting him from his point. "I wanted to do this," he said. "I wanted to do this for you. You couldn't lose both of us, and only one of use could survive. I just did the math."

Niko looked somber, which really wasn't all that unusual, but Cal could feel his brother's anxiety rolling off him. "It appears I have no reason to trust your math skills either."

He loved his brother, he really did, but sometimes, Niko was dense. Perhaps purposefully so, but for all his smarts and inner peace, the guy could be as thick as a brick. "Well, you apparently have no compassion left at all," Cal snapped in frustration.

Niko didn't rise to Cal's anger. Just raised his eyebrows in question.

That just made Cal even more frustrated. Maybe it was the fact that he'd been bedridden for far too long or that he'd slept more in a week than he should have in a month. Or maybe it was the fact that he was starving for something with some taste and substance in it. Or maybe it was just that he knew something had happened in there—something bad—and it was screwing everyone else up worse than it was him. "It's not her fault," he said finally, perhaps a bit sulkily.

"Cal, I know what she did," Niko said evenly.

"Do you?" Cal asked, accusingly. "I mean, were you there?"

A muscle jumped in Niko's jaw. "I saw enough, little brother."

"You saw the end," Cal told him. "You didn't see everything that happened before that."

"I don't need to."

Niko's calm could be infuriating under the best of circumstances. When Cal actually had a point, a real and valid point, it nearly drove him to distraction. "Damn it, Nik," he said, slamming his hand hard against the mattress. "You don't know anything!"

Niko's eyes flashed dangerously, sparkling with a cold and fear that Cal had never seen. "I saw her drinking your blood," he seethed back. "She was killing you. I trusted her, and she was going to kill you. I saw the monster inside of her and I will never be able to forget that."

There it was. The truth, the raw confession Cal had known all along and been waiting for. "There's a monster inside of all of us."

Niko settled back in his chair, calm settling tightly over his face again.

Cal swallowed, attempting to regain the composure he'd never really had. "So what, I'm an _okay_ monster and she's not? Last I checked, I was the one who nearly destroyed the world."

Niko sighed, clearly wearied by the same argument. Niko had been quick to forgive Cal. It'd been harder to let it go himself. "That wasn't _you_, Cal."

Tonight, it wasn't about him. "And this wasn't her. Come on, Nik," he said. "She was just doing what she needed to do to survive. She would have _died _without it. She didn't want to drink it. I offered it to her. I told her to."

Niko looked down, his hair falling loosely about his shoulders and Cal's soul ached. He hated to see his brother in pain. "She nearly killed you," Niko admitted. "I don't know how to trust her after that."

"She nearly died, too."

Looking up, Niko met his eyes. "No one's more important than you." Niko's voice was steady, resolute.

And that was it, really, the crux of the whole thing. Niko had his priorities, had always had his priorities, and nothing—_nothing_ would interfere with that.

Cal could feel that love course through him, followed immediately by guilt. He'd already cost his brother so much. He'd taken so much from Niko and his brother had never once complained. Never once said anything. He couldn't take Promise from him, too. Not when she could make him happy.

For his entire life, Niko had always tried to put him first, told him that he was the most important one ever.

It was time for Niko to believe the same about himself.

-o-

Niko, inevitably, as Niko _always _did, fell into a strict routine, one that Cal was still too weak to truly resist.

It didn't mean that he didn't want to. He was just so tired of being sick, of being immobile. He wanted freedom again, to move, to pee on his own, to eat _real food_.

Niko was many things, but a push-over, he was not. No, if Cal wanted to eat like a human being again, he'd have to employ other methods. Not to mention the fact that if he ever wanted to see Promise again, he couldn't ask Niko. She had become taboo to him, which was about more than Cal could handle.

He'd nearly _died_ with her. He knew she was hurting and he just needed to see her with his own eyes, make sure she was okay. He needed to tell her that he was sorry.

And he needed a chili cheese dog. Before he turned into some gigantic grain of natural fiber.

Where was Robin when he needed him?

He hadn't seen Robin in awhile, not since Niko had chased him out under the pretense that Cal needed to rest (and wouldn't he like to get _that_ one in writing for the next time Niko wanted him to train when Cal just wanted to watch TV). But, if he knew the puck, it was likely he'd be around again (or even still). Robin had firmly entrenched himself into their lives, mostly without invitation, and Cal knew that especially when things were rough, Robin wasn't far behind.

And Cal sort of understood, though it was still hard to get used to. Robin was more lonely than he admitted, mostly because Cal knew loneliness and recognized it easily under the puck's vibrant salaciousness. Robin cared about them, and he was worried about them. He'd stick around the apartment until Cal groused enough to make him leave.

Now, the question was, how to get Robin in there without eliciting concern from Niko.

He could try getting up, but that would undoubtedly raise Niko's attention, which was_ not_ the point.

He could sit and hope Robin wandered by, but Cal was not exactly patient.

That just left one thing. Rudimentary, but hopefully effective. "Robin!" he called. "Hey, Robin!"

With any luck, Robin would hear and come, and Niko would assume Cal just needed someone with a sense of humor to pass the time.

When Robin's curly head poked around the doorway, Cal knew he'd secured his victory.

"Need something?" Robin asked, meandering in cautiously, as if he expected Niko to jump out the closet and chase him away (which, Cal considered, was a possibility).

He'd deal with that if he had to. Right now, he had a puck to work over. "Robin, I need your help," he said, hoping to sound innocent, maybe a little pathetic. Maybe he was still gaunt enough to tug on heartstrings, since he didn't totally have the little brother in with Robin or the sexual attraction (not that he minded that).

Robin looked skeptical. "Your brother has me under strict orders to take care of you properly," Goodfellow warned. "And you know how I can't refuse Niko's orders."

Cal turned it up a notch. "I'd do it myself, but it's just so _hard_. I'm so tired, and Niko won't give me an inch of breathing room. Come on, man. I was trapped for a _week_ with nothing to eat or to do. Just one favor."

"I helped find you, didn't I?" Robin pointed out, but Cal could see him wavering.

He let his wide-eyed gaze linger on Robin's a little more before the puck huffed and sunk into the chair.

"Tell me what you want, Caliban," he said with a sigh. Then, with a waggle of his eyebrow, he added. "It'd better be good."

Cal grinned, his fatigued, kicked-puppy look melting away.

-o-

Robin was _almost_ successful on the first charge. The chili cheese dog made it all the way to Cal's bedroom before Niko swooped in. Although it was Cal who had the super-sensitive smell, he was pretty sure that all of Niko's senses were abnormally strengthened by his bizarre dietary habits.

"You can throw that out in the dumpster on your way out," Niko said smoothly, nodding Goodfellow to the door.

Robin's mouth opened in protest, but Niko's gaze leveled him. With an apologetic look at Cal, he shrugged. "I tried, kiddo," he said. "We'll see what we can swing tomorrow, okay?"

Cal glared at Niko. "Thanks for trying," he said to Robin.

"It's always a pleasure," Robin replied, oddly sincerely. The puck gave a small, shy smile, before ducking out the door, the chili dog sadly in his hands.

Cal renewed his glare at his brother. "I thought you wanted me to _not_ starve to death."

Niko was unfazed by Cal's tone. "You need to learn to appreciate foods from a wider variety of food groups," Niko said. "You want some chicken broth?"

Well, _that_ sounded thrilling. "Oh, goody," Cal moped. "I can hardly wait."

"You'll thank me someday."

"Don't hold your breath," Cal muttered.

"I never do," Niko called back to him as he exited the room.

Cal just glared. Hopefully he could count on Goodfellow could come through on the second part of his request. His stomach may be protesting, but the second part was far more important anyway.

For _all_ of them.

-o-

He ate more chicken broth to avoid being force fed by his older brother, who could no doubt pin him down and accomplish that task. Niko retired to the bedroom, probably to meditate on new ways to torment Cal, leaving Cal to his own devices.

Which meant he could stare out the window at the apartment across the alley.

Or he could stare at the wall.

Niko had left a few books discreetly by his bedside, but Cal could only assume they were meant to be used as coasters for the water Niko permitted him.

He was so absorbed in doing _nothing_ that he barely heard the sound of the door opening. He recognized the loud clumps of Goodfellow's shoes, though, and he sighed. At least that would keep him from losing his mind.

Looking up, he was more than a little surprised to see Promise in the doorway.

Relief swept over him, followed closely by guilt. She looked horrible, ragged and empty, a shell of the vibrant woman she was. Or the vibrant vamp. Or whatever.

"Promise," he breathed. "You're okay."

It was a pretty dumb thing to say, not true and not sensitive, but Cal figured he must have lost some brain cells throughout the entire ordeal, so it wasn't his fault.

He couldn't help but thinking that Promise's state, however, _was_.

She gave him an empty smile, lingering in the doorway. "I just needed to see you," she said. "To make sure—to make sure you were okay."

Cal pushed himself up in the bed, leaning gingerly against the headboard. "You know me," he said. "It's going to take a lot more than some freaky science experiment to keep me down."

She didn't return the levity. Instead she looked down, unable to meet Cal's eyes.

The guilt made Cal's shoulders sag. He had done this to her. "I'm sorry, Promise," he said finally. His pride was a distant thing anyway amongst this group of people, but it still didn't make expressing himself easy. But for her, for what she had gone through—he had to try.

She turned a shocked gaze upon him. "You're sorry? Whatever for?"

"For not getting us out of there," Cal said. "For being weak. I mean—crap, the stuff you went through because I kept passing out all the time? I can't even imagine. I owe you my life."

Her incredulity was powerfully evident. "Cal, I nearly killed you."

He cocked his head. That wasn't how he'd envisioned this conversation going. "What?"

"I nearly drained you of all your blood," she explained hotly. "If Niko hadn't come when he did, I would have taken it all."

That wasn't a pleasant image, but it wasn't one that he hadn't entertained. "Well, of course you would have," he said. "I told you to. You needed to survive. I was too—I was too weak, I went down too fast. I _wanted_ you to stay strong."

Her head dropped again. "You are not the one who is weak," she told him. "I promised myself I would never drink blood again. I _promised_ myself I wouldn't hurt you."

And he got it. He understood. It wasn't her fault, none of it was, but she'd given in to the very need she'd tried so long to fight against. It didn't matter to her that she was in uncontrollable circumstances. It just mattered that she'd done it. That's all that mattered to _her_.

He couldn't stop the laugh of disbelief from crossing his lips. "We are more alike than I ever thought."

Surprised, she looked back at him. "Why do you say that?"

"We're both so afraid, you know. Of being a monster. That we don't take the time to realize that we can't control everything. That sometimes it's really not our fault."

She shook her head. "This is nothing like that, Cal."

"Isn't it? I nearly _destroyed _the world."

"It wasn't you." Her voice was strident, clear on that point.

"And whatever happened in that cavern—that wasn't you. You may not have had a stowaway making you do things, but a situation like that—" He shook his head. "Come on, Promise. That kind of thing isn't anyone's fault but the freak who put us there."

She looked hopeful at that, though still broken down and weary. She moved to his bed, perching lightly on the side. "I want to believe that," she said, her voice nearly a whisper. "I want to believe I really couldn't control it."

"Then what's stopping you?"

She closed her eyes, swallowing, before she looked at him squarely again. "I enjoyed it," she admitted. "I loved every moment of drinking from you. Even now, your blood—it calls to me."

"And you think I didn't enjoy every minute of trying to kill everyone? That time Darkling was in me—was the _happiest_ I have ever been. Nothing will ever change that.

"How do you live with it?"

"You just do. Each day it gets a little less. And I guess, I guess I figure it's not so much about what I couldn't stop before, but how I deal with it now. The fact that Nik, Robin, and you—you all forgave me without question. Without objection."

"You are very strong," she said. "Stronger than I knew."

"Promise, I don't blame you," he said. "I never will."

She trembled, then a tear fell. Then another. Soon, she shook with them, her back curving over in the grief of it.

Saying words of comfort was one thing—one thing that he felt he was pulling out of his butt the entire time, but still achieving, up to a point—but crying women? That was entirely another. Cal barely knew how to let _Niko_ touch him. Initiating such contact—Cal had never done it before. He could probably count the number of hugs he'd received in his life on one hand. Giving one was…almost unthinkable.

But she was hurting. She was hurting and grieving and some of that was his fault. More than that, he knew how she felt. He knew exactly how she felt, and there was no one else who was going to comfort her. No one else who could.

His movements were awkward and slow, his tired limbs only part of the reason. Promise didn't seem to notice, too lost in her tears to sense his movement.

Carefully, slowly, he moved until he was next to her. His arm shaking, he reached it out and tentatively, shyly let it drape across her back, softly letting his hand rest on her arm.

She tensed a little, almost flinched, but he squeezed back lightly, reassuringly and she let herself relax.

Feeling awkward, Cal kept himself still, but kept his arm steady, offering her anything he had. Anything at all.

She didn't sob, though Cal had nearly expected it. Instead she stayed close to him, and Cal could almost feel her heart beating with his.

She would survive this, just as he had. They had survived it together.

That meant everything.

Cal couldn't help but smiling, when he saw a movement in the hallway.

There, just outside the door, stood Niko. His brother was tense, wide-eyed. Cal held his gaze, letting his own peace flow to him as well. He knew Niko had probably wanted to storm in and throw Promise out. Niko's rage did not abate easily, even if he did show it in a measured fashion. But he hadn't, not yet, and Cal felt himself hope.

His brother swallowed, trembling a little, and Cal could see him struggling in himself to make sense of it.

Then, after a moment, Niko offered a small half-smile, barely anything, before nodding and walking on.

-o-

Waking up to Niko at his side was certainly not an unfamiliar sight, though it really was getting a bit old at this point. He was _fine_, or at least well on his way to being so. Niko could stop hovering any time now.

But then he saw the look on his brother's face, thoughtful and sad. Niko wasn't just here to make sure he was okay. Niko was here to talk.

"Hey," Cal said.

Niko's face didn't flicker.

"You okay?" Cal asked hesitantly.

Drawing in a breath, Niko turned decided eyes upon him. "You need to understand that you are more important than anything else," Niko said gravely. "Nothing will ever come between me and you. If there's ever a choice between you or someone else, I will always choose you. I will protect you with everything I have."

And Cal knew that, Cal had always known it. But to hear it, to hear it so plainly—it made Cal's heart skip a beat. "You think I don't know that?" he asked quietly. "And don't you think the same goes from me to you?"

At that, Niko smiled, dropping his head a little and his blonde hair falling over his shoulders. "I know," he said.

Cal waited. "But?"

Niko straightened himself, resolved. "When I entered the room and saw Promise…drinking from you, I didn't know what to do," he admitted, looking at his hand. "I trusted her, and she nearly killed you. I didn't know how to reconcile those two facts."

Niko's logical mind did have a weakness then. He didn't understand ambiguity, didn't like it. It made him uncomfortable.

"But you," Niko continued, looking up at him. "You didn't even think twice. You never blamed her. At all. You nearly died, and you just wanted to make sure she was okay." Niko paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "I watched you grow up not trusting anyone. I watched you nearly self-destruct with fear and loneliness. And yet there you were, comforting her."

"She loves you," Cal blurted. "She loves me too, but not like you. She loves you, and she's good for you. You have to understand that it wasn't her choice. It was never her choice. She needs you just as much as you need her. I can't be the reason for that to fall apart."

Niko's brow furrowed. "I'm so used to worrying about you," he said. "To have you worrying about me—that's not something I'm sure I'm going to get used to."

Cal smirked. "Sometimes I'm right, you know, even without your college classes."

The grin on Niko's face was relieved, shy. "That's not to say you wouldn't benefit from some extended education."

Cal just rolled his eyes, snorting a little. "That's your job, big brother," he said. "And so is Promise. Have you talked to her?"

Niko's smile fell and he tore his gaze from Cal again. "It's very difficult."

"And raising me wasn't?"

"Touché," Niko quipped weakly. "But if you can forgive her, then I think I can, too. I think I owe it to all of us to try."

Amen to _that_. Relief swept over Cal, like he'd finally done something right. More than that, he'd given something back to Niko. He had a long way to go to make everything up to him, to make all the sacrifices worthwhile, but he was still working on that. And it certainly seemed like he had some time.

"So," Cal said, throwing an arm behind his head. "Promise told me about this special talent you have with your legs."

Niko's face reddened. "She did not."

Cal laugh short and hard. "Oh," he said, "but she did."

"I think you may have been hallucinating," Niko reasoned. "Blood loss and dehydration to that degree can lead to many hallucinatory experiences."

"There is _no way_ I would have hallucinated something like _that_."

"I wouldn't put it past you and your juvenile mind."

"You're still avoiding the question," Cal pointed out.

Niko grunted and stood. "And you're still bedridden," he said, somewhat triumphantly. "I'll come back with more of those crackers I know you appreciate."

As Niko walked out of the room, Cal groaned, calling after him, "Next time I'll just die, and then you'll regret torturing me with crackers!"

Niko's voice, light and warm, came back to him from the other side of the apartment. "I'd like to see you try."

Cal just grinned, thankful that he knew his brother was right.


End file.
